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Немає даних24 години
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862
to quit.
it was sadistic. it was masochistic. it was sadomasochistic.
i couldn't help it. it'd hit me like a double-decker bus that crashes you out of the blue while crossing the street. it always came late at night. like a cigarette you long for before you want to go to bed. when you can't tranquilize your blood vessels until you sense the presence of nicotine run through your blood. you give it a break once every now and then and you go back to it like a box of memories left from your lover in war that you check out whenever you're missing them. i always said i quit. i said it numerous times a day to the point it turned into an odd word. to the point i became unfamiliar with it. but why quit when you long for something which makes you feel alive again? it hurts you but what's the point of life if it's all blissful embrace of euphoria and not a flicker of sorrow and gloom in between them?!
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خواستم برم جلوی آینه که رژمو درست کنم ولی انقدر از ایرانی جماعت متنفر هستم که حاضر نبودم قیافه خود مادرقحبهام را توی آئینه ببینم.
