You. Yes, You.

I’m talking to you,
Whosoever that is in front of the glass,
Or from whoever’s mouth.

Tell me.

Why are you reading this?
Is it to get some motivation?
Some inspiration?
Perhaps just to grate time?

I don’t really care.
At this point,
You might be guessing,
“Where is the core message?”

I don’t have it.

I’m just writing to fulfill my daily task,
Sometimes.

I’m quite exhausted,
Creatively, physically.

However,
I could not rest,
I was lured to waste my time on my phone,
Watching needless stuffs,
Just to waste my time,
As if my body was emitting a certain toxic
To hinder my progress,
To make me feel abject submission.

“You are making excuses for yourself,
Again.”

“Why not just get your ass up,
And start doing the things that you are supposed to do?”

Like bees,
Those phrases were vulturing around me
Every
Single
Time.

I did not learn.
Not at all.

I just love to bow down to adversaries,
To not be myself,
To submit myself to the devil which take my time,
Voluntarily.

Sigh.

Bathed.

Refreshed.

Sleep. Repeat.
A day gone inside the 6’x2′.

Why am I doing this to myself?

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

I

Don’t

Know

Anymore.

Tantrum 

Craving for more? Down below:
Accustomed
Let Me
Nope.
Sharks
One Year and Counting…
Ergosphere
Breathe. In Remembrance.

Posted by

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

12 thoughts on “You. Yes, You.

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