There are times when you have to get it out.
Have you ever felt that you were running without ground beneath your feet,the fog so dense that you had to content yourself with only a mere feeling that you exist?
unofficially let me tell you this is my third blog. . .
I want to sit on the terrace,smoke a ciggarette and let all my desperation(mind:not frustation) out with the each exhaled puff of smoke,as if lots of it was trapped inside me.

I am waiting and waiting.I do nothing these days because I am waiting.Waiting for them to say things,to do things,waiting for things to get forward.
I also know they will never say it.They are all on their ways.Even the thought wun ever cross their minds...When I think of them I see bttr things,much bttr than me and I choke with the smoke...

Like a suspended helium balloon,some one pull me back...