the scariest thing is: I can't stop imagining myself passing through that door. while everyone keeps telling me how I would be fine, I keep listening to only one voice that's telling me I wouldn't survive. the scariest thing is: I can't stop imagining myself passing through that door. that tiny door.

the numbers are getting huge. so huge that it's haunting me to sleep. or even after.

I keep counting numbers, not willing to lose my tracks of time. and I keep realizing things that's telling me I should stop counting. I found voices, lines, small things, big matters, words, statements, seconds, minutes, hours..

I'm afraid of being, but deep down inside I am willing to.

I keep comparing, I keep getting punches. now I'm lost, and word-less.

thinking too much had never done me any good. feeling too much had never brought me somewhere better. I hated, I loved, I got mad, I smiled..

I'm afraid of being. too afraid of being. but deep down inside I am not at all afraid of willing to.

now where is that voice when I need something to keep my mind at ease? oh, that door. ooh..

I am so sick but at the same time I have never been healthier. life?