I am torn.
Caught in between what I want to do and what I should do.
I really wish I didn't have to do this.
5 more sleeps until.
Something's obviously wrong; it's not me, it's you.
Winter has decided to play the jealousy game,
Winter is the unloved first born child.
Summer is the new born baby, the world's shiny new toy.
We've been paying too much attention to the warmer seasons.
Winter cries and cries, becoming colder and colder
Turning its tears into ice, its sorrows falter against the skin of the earth.
Short blog for today, I'm too damn sad to give a fuck.
ginx vicioux
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