I spilled a glass of milk but I did not cry. Its because its not actually mine, but I grieve silently, privately knowing that that milk belongs to that person I would like to think, somehow special, but I guess he really is not special to my own volition, I reckon so, if that is based in mind matters.
But what is the point? It is simply grieving for the lost of others even if they don’t care for you, or worse, they don’t even know you at all. And what is worse than being invisible and at the same time insensible?... or in short… you don’t exist at all.
I’m trying to replace the missing piece but…nothing fits.
What the heck I should do when it is you the Mc Farland?
But what is the point? It is simply grieving for the lost of others even if they don’t care for you, or worse, they don’t even know you at all. And what is worse than being invisible and at the same time insensible?... or in short… you don’t exist at all.
I’m trying to replace the missing piece but…nothing fits.
What the heck I should do when it is you the Mc Farland?