tired

I have found so many angels trapped inside undisputed jargon that I find myself digging at the words, in order to release them, from the books that unfairly captured their soul.

He must have stood there for a long time, making a list of all the terrible things he had done__lmost killinng me was one of those thingss__nd another list of all the good, heroic, brave things he had not done, and then decided that he was tired. Tired, not just of living, but of existing. Tired of being Al.

I'm tired of carrying around the weight of the world. I'm just going to lay it down now. It's my time to die, and it's your time to live. Don't mess it up.

A part of me genuinely wanted to be the worst because I was so sick of everyone fighting to be the best.

I'm tired and angry at me. For letting myself get smaller and smaller in the hopes that he would notice me more. But how can someone notice you if you keep getting smaller?

Undoubtedly, our weariness is not based on the fact that we__e running. Rather, our weariness is all too frequently based on the fact that many of the things that we__e running from are the very things we should be running to.

The most critical time in any battle is not when I__ fatigued, it__ when I no longer care.

My shadow is tired walking with me; but I have yet to be bored walking with myself, all by myself...

When time furtively slips like sand through the fingers and our memory becomes tired and lazy, we recognize we are at war. We are at war with forgetfulness. ("The past was her best friend" )

Made you the subject of my dreams, I was always the first to hear your screams. Haven't you had enough of all these schemes? Re-run all the scenes...Haven't you noticed we're being a bit too extreme? I know not everything is as it seems, but aren't you tired of floating downstream?

Go to where ever dreamland you decide on. But go with passion hand-in-hand. You will never be tired on the way!

And I'd noticed her eyes, the lightest blue, and alive, moving here and there and then staring straight on. And now there's darkness under her eyes like she hasn't slept well for too many days, almost like someone punched her just hard enough to leave a little black, a quarter-moon smudge under each eye.

She was always tired, these days. She put on one of those smiles that wasn__ really a smile at all, and they went on.

Sometimes, I feel able to write lines about my life and about how I do feel everyday in such a huge book, but sometimes I either prefer to write one word that describe it or just to say nothing at all.

Love should not cause suffocation and death if it is truly love. Don't bundle someone into an uncomfortable cage just because you want to ensure their safety in your life. The bird knows where it belongs, and will never fly to a wrong nest.

Foolishness sleeps soundly, while knowledge turns with each thinking hour, longing for the dawn of answers.

The more you try to impress, the more you become depressed, and the more they get tired of your coercion. It doesn't make them love you, instead, they'll see you as a little child, trying to draw a senseless picture on a piece of paper, begging people to look at it and admire it by force. You can persuade someone to look at your face, but you can't persuade them to see the beauty therein.

It wasn't merely fatigue. although it continued to worry me how tired i was all the time. I had a strange sense of missing something, of being in the wrong place - no matter where I was.