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lonely

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At that time, I well remember whatever could excite - certain accidents of the weather, for instance, were almost dreaded by me, because they woke the being I was always lulling, and stirred up a craving cry I could not satisfy. One night a thunder-storm broke; a sort of hurricane shook us in our beds: the Catholics rose in panic and prayed to their saints. As for me, the tempest took hold of me with tyranny: I was roughly roused and obliged to live. I got up and dressed myself, and creeping outside the basement close by my bed, sat on its ledge, with my feet on the roof of a lower adjoining building. It was wet, it was wild, it was pitch dark. Within the dormitory they gathered round the night-lamp in consternation, praying loud. I could not go in: too resistless was the delight of staying with the wild hour, black and full of thunder, pealing out such an ode as language never delivered to man - too terribly glorious, the spectacle of clouds, split and pierced by white and blinding bolts.

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I'm lonely, Yes! I'm so lonely. I'm Just a sad tear that came out of the depths of pain. I have neither friend nor a lover. I live in an empty dark shell. Punctuated by the lights of my dreams.I hear a whisper. I hear an echo.Why everything I love in this world. It's expensive, or it makes me sad. Beyond my shell, there is an empty world.A world filled with hatred and lies. A world filled with vanity and treason. A world filled with injustice and selfishness. There is a noise in my silence, but I shout quietly.So as to your pure heart can hear me. I tried to escape from my bitter reality. A reality that walks against my dreams.I found out that sleep is my best shelter.Because life is easy when eyes are closed. So I give up my eyes, and went to sleep. Then suddenly!I felt a call, something tried to wake me up. I felt whispers caressing my soul.That together we stand, divided we fall.That you are the king of my thrown,And only beside you, I feel like I have everything.I love you my shell, my home.

EI
Eyden I.

Kiss Friendzone Goodbye

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It__ the beating of my heart. The way I lie awake, playing with shadows slowly climbing up my wall. The gentle moonlight slipping through my window and the sound of a lonely car somewhere far away, where I long to be too, I think. It__ the way I thought my restless wandering was over, that I__ found whatever I thought I had found, or wanted, or needed, and I started to collect my belongings. Build a home. Safe behind the comfort of these four walls and a closed door. Because as much as I tried or pretended or imagined myself as a part of all the people out there,I was still the one locking the door every night.Turning off the phone and blowing out the candles so no one knew I was home. __ause I was never really well around the expectations of my personalityand I wanted to keep to myself. and because I haven__ been very impressed lately. By people, or places.Or the way someone said he loved me and then slowly changed his mind.

CE
Charlotte Eriksson

Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving