DELETE is the easiest button to hit on nights like these. Nights that end while still unfinished. Nights that make you smaller than ants that crawl on walls. Nights that make sleeping a difficult task.
When you’re 18 and your expectations exceed the limit, and no one listens to you when you need them to, simple things no longer make you happy. Simple things become ordinary and boring. Your mind expands its imagination capacity and fantasies suddenly become musts.
I used to be at the top. I used to be up. I used to be happy with little things.
Now it’s time to have more. I’ve turned into a displeased, greedy 18 year-old and…
I can hit DELETE and get rid of these useless words, but I’m not going to.

Comments are closed.