Down by Twan B.

waking up

And all I could think of was how I would want to brush her hair away from her eyes. And I know she was just playing with my dreams. I've always been in favour of the most natural way of starting the day. And just as I was annoyed once again, I pressed out of sheer force of habit, the silver button on the left side of my bed. This made the condo look just a bit more cold and grey, eventhough the floor was already adapted to the warmth of my body before my feet touched it. In a haze I stumbled across the room, even more confused than usual. My head was filled with impressions and emotions. I've never been any good in giving feelings a place in my life. I would never describe myself as having been a troubled teenager. Those early years I told myself that nothing had really happened to me. How could I grow with nothing in my backpack. I wasn't aware of the carpet or cold tiles underneath me, as the images in my head alternated between her hair and my old electric razor.

How can I expect non-chaos from anyone else? be continued

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