The monochrome ocean with millions of gray shades is how now my ocean of depression looks like. Those words that I hear from everyone around about I should knock my walls down feels so obsolete. I wish to collect all the obsolete words and make a boat out of it to swim away from the world into the infinity. The twisted brain thoughts seem amusing and interesting from outside, but not so much from the inside; the constant urge to run away or end yourself with no concrete reason to talk about. The wandering mind does not want to find the reason, because it is afraid of getting it corrected. The high of the drug feels like cure to the tortured soul in turmoil. But I don’t even have a vague idea of how much will be too much for me call it a high with no return from that. Maybe I will only realize when it’s already too late to realize after all…
My Warrior Soul that is moved by every emotion I experience
My dreaming soul has dreams of reaching the infinites of earth
My Deep soul makes feel the ocean bed shallow
My sad soul has shed tears more than I can even bear
My Mad soul has messed up with no clue of even cleaning it up
The tale of my Gypsy Soul that wanders around the thrills and to end of the world…!