incapable

Anger or sorrow or rage? Which one? Whatever I lived more than with, and then suggesting new options. I feel anger further, I feel sorrow too. Who are you? Who are you really? Don't make it joke, who you walk into? People think how dramatic it is, being suppressed, soon we freed our cells. I am really tired of that old shit, this old space, this old schematic for life, may should I start a life far from them, I never return to that place, I should learn so many things easily acquired by knowledge, saved them in myself. I was silent inherently, I should've leap from one stage to another, and I feel doing some best solace works make me stronger. This is a writing of mine, this Is a writing of mine, everybody knows how it looks. I am not the last, the first and final man, final heroine being traversed. More or less we are such like that, no option is here, if there's an option I could do it, if there's not, wouldn't. soon it change better for what I have in my heart. Tragedy is a product of falling apart, snake molting and change. The pressure is always there, go! Wait! And go then. I am really suppressed, but I have options to work with, you can't tolerate mental illness woman living with you, pestering every inch of. You just need to have rest, make it a joke to find possible through impossible. Really injured? Maybe, maybe not. I am very reckless and tough, wilder than destiny. Age is a appropriate response to personal growth. As if people are here, don't pay attention to that, just a obligation to find eternity. So hard to end up reasonable affair than emotional. So hard to find a passing stage stable. I am really out of this world of people, I am really tired of saving junk. I am really tired of repeating I will I do job. This is very hard to have someone seating beside you and listening to you, looking from eyes, normally but loyal, to march the way smoother together, to feel like friends are just friends and nothing especially permanent, to see other sides of nature together by eyes, to forget what I came. I hate where I came. I hate my sperm-conditional-status. I hate them all and never go through them. I live in my world, free of subtleties and complexities.