They Say It Changes When The Sun Goes Down

I think I am mad. Mad at the situation. Situation I despise. Mad at the solitude. Solitude that brings too many thoughts around. Mad at everything without someone to blame -- not that I intended to blame anyone; but having the idea of having someone to blame just clarified I am not wrong. Mad at these sleepy eyes. But instead of sleeping, I force myself to do anything but sleep as if I enjoy a bit of competition. Mad at this empty box because I can not get my fingers to write anything due to the over-annoying mind of mine that unable to stay put. Mad at the silence over the phone. Mad at the expectation. Mad because I can not yet cope with facts. Mad at mostly everything which covered the goods. Mad at these days habit that does not make any sense to me. Mad because tomorrow is Monday and I have to wake up early. Mad for being weak and let mad taking control of me. Mad because I can not make me stop saying mad and keeping my head cool. Mad because I am suppose to be cheerful and all that. Mad because I often forget I actually am happy. Mad because honestly, everything is alright, so why bother mourning? And mad because I should have post something jolly and right. This is not wrong though, in my defense, because I can not and won't write anything against what's going through my head the very second I write it down. I know things are not that bad. Maybe things are not bad at all. I know, by the end of this post I will feel much better than before when I started it.

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