Twenty five


"I am still 25".

Convincing myself that sentence everyday, that I am still a 25 years old person is pretty exhausting, but the fact that I have wasted all the moments when I was 22, 23 and 24. That's why, I have no choice, plus, I only want to make sure that I am happy.

How desperate I am? I admit, I'm desperate, Happiness was almost extinct from my life dictionary. Almost. But I revived it, little by little.

I know, I still have a long way to go. Mine is different, so do others.

But paranoid comes whenever my mind is not occupied with productive matters. And I'm getting sick of it, that almost I developed chronophobia.

But my body needs rest, I can't ignore.

I'm afraid. I'm missing some people. I want to go to a place called, home.


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