Friday, February 25, 2011

I think I'll manage; somehow.

I have a status to take care of. A ring to look for every night. Tiring, yes. Holding such big responsibility can make you wonder whether you have done the right thing. Sometimes, your mind keeps on telling that you need time to think. You feel restricted. Every day; every single moment, you have to mind your steps. You can't stop thinking whether you have done anything wrong during the day when you start to lie on your bed every night before you get to sleep. Again; tiring, yes. But I'm happy. The ring may make me feel uneasy most of the time, but I know I can always look for my drug.

The type that I'll look for every night
in order to help myself in getting a dose of beauty sleep.
The type that heals all my pain until there are no scars left.

That's why, I think I'll manage; somehow... to take care of the ring.