Hopefully, tomorrow will be another day, and it will carry on its wings the spark of a new hope.
Ja! I’m such a fool. Same old hollow living. There is so much noise in silence that breathing becomes an overwhelming challenge.
Tomorrow and the days to come will follow its route hovering over my thoughts and my dreams carrying the echoes of a meaningless lullaby. It is such a burden to linger awake for hours before falling into Morpheus’ spell. Get me the sleeping pills! Now! Otherwise the monsters and specters will come out of their hiding grouts and tombs to feed on my fears and my self-destructive thoughts. I suppose I’m such a great necromancer that I don’t even notice when I invite them to visit me; the problem is that they have overstayed their welcome since the first night they came disguising their ominous intention behind venecian masks.
Cheers for my nearly thirty-five birthday! May my days as short as my futile existance in a world I don’t belong.