Sometimes I feel really really bad when I see impossible things happening. Why doesn’t the impossible happen with me? Why, of all the people, did this happen to me? Why, of all the people me? Maybe future is better but the continuous ex-foliation that the present is inflicting upon me is unbearable at times. How Why do I have to deal with that stress? No I’m not complaining but I’m not contented either. Of course there are millions of people in worser conditions but I have just one heart, right? what does it matter? To each their own. To mine, my own. 

How will the heart repair itself? How will it bear the sutures of reconciliation and coming to terms with life on it’s own? How will the poor little brave thing go on without anesthesia? I don’t deserve to do this to it. My brain’s gotta stop. The neurons go crazy. Why? It takes a toll on the heart. Wicked mind. I’m a woman…I will feel this…and I will go crazy someday…