I'm trying to think of the last time I felt alive. it was last week, at the bar. alcohol was running through my blood and the music was played loudly, well synchronized with my heart beats. every little thing seems like it doesn't really matter. I was just there, hypnotized and paralyzed, smiling. I knew I wanted more.
I'm here now after a hard day of work, it's late and I'm wearing a short white shirt after a nice bath. but it was enough. I'm sweating. I hate it.

I feel like taking a walk. just a little walk with myself, just half an hour or something. I need to get myself out. I got to get out on my own, from this waiting at home.

Everything feels so temporary. it's like, I know one day it's all going to end, this hard time. the hardest year I've ever been through. but it passed so fast. I got one year left, hoping not to tear myself up.

I know it all worths it, and there so much to learn. even though, I still ask myself sometimes, why? why am I doing this, why did I agree from the first place, why do I put so much on my shoulders?
and then again I come back home, night time, 09:00, a day has passed so fast and I'm pleased with it but a bit confused as well. the day's over? if I want to, it is over. I know I need to sleep.

oh well. me and my thoughts. don't mind that.
I don't quite understand myself either sometimes.