Sad I’m not free
Here, is where I feel free to shout out my un-heard voice, but every time I write down the words I have to delete co’s it is not just appropriate. People might see it, read it and think negative about it. But how about me.. how about my freedom… where is the freedom of the press then (if I could quote that)? No wonder why when I’m with a friend I kept on talking and talking, expressing my feeling… pouring out what’s inside of me. But how about her? For sure she has a lot too. L
I have to fully analyze these things or I’ll just stare at it until a wind from outside will blow that paper away , shake my computer till it scream I’m dead and nothing remains but the record she had in her. Goodness. No matter how I analyze this I’m always led to confusions. Then whenever I see hope it always leads me to dim. I’m beginning to dislike this job because of the reports I have received. It’s just leading me to nowhere.
The papers are screaming and staring at me as if they’re going to eat me alive. Then here I am… writing about them, ignoring them as long as I can. L
Every Blessing that YOU poured out...turns back to Praise...!