Last night I felt an urge to run away. Nothing particularly was
wrong, which scared me the most. I had
finished one of my exams and I was on my
way home, but before I knew it, I had passed the street that
I live on and I
was heading in a direction that id never been before. I don’t often feel this way, when
my stomach
knots, my hands shake, and my heads a mess, but when I do, it stays for a
while, like an
unwanted house guest who doesn’t understand they’ve overstayed
their welcome. The people in my
life aren’t particularly appealing to me and I
feel more and more comfortable spending my time alone,
sipping on cold tea and
painting over candlelight. It’s a sad life to some, but I sort of like it. I
like to be
the mystery girl that no one really knows, and is too afraid to ask,
but everything comes at a cost.
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