The wind is howling outside. Like lost ghosts. Rain pouring down in sheets. Perfect weather to be asleep in bed, curled up beneath your blanket.
But I'm not asleep.
I'm drinking coffee.. much diluted. Thinking that I am actually afraid of dying.
When I was abit younger, I used to wish, sometimes, that if I were to not to wake up from sleep, it would be a good thing. I wanted to sleep everything away. Now that I've become slightly older, slightly more jaded, I realise that I don't want to die like that.
Because if I did, I would miss my family very much.
No comments:
Post a Comment