When the Sun broke the silence

(Adele - Someone like you)

Some mornings waking up is a bit more difficult. When I resort to writing, something which doesn't seem preventable... I hate it when I have to write.

Sometimes you'd just wish your life would be easier. That you'd just be the same immoral ass as the rest, and simply not care about moral and the happiness of others. But then what? Then I probably would have been a different person. A person which when I see them now I disrespect, dislike or even hate if I'd see them live and act today. And so I ask, as an effect of a self:

Is the suffering the price we pay, to be ourselves?

It is you know.

And then we can continue to wonder what stupid pasts fuck up our present, and wonder, hope or dispear how events will affect the outcome of your future. Is the loss of trust enough to nudge me to a route which paths can only diverge? Or is the track wide enough not to fall off?

God I wished it was just a stupid joke.