Man asked if he could take my picture and told me I was beautiful.
I don’t know if he was drunk or if that was a sign from some...external force? But it was nice and made me smile. I said no, but politely.
He told me clumsily to be more confident with it. I’m sure I won’t, be he was kind.
I want to be so light that a gust of wind just whisks me up and carries me away. My body aches for sleep but I must press on, surely this can’t be my life, so early on...this can’t be it for me now?
My gut is unhappy therefor my mind is unhappy. I wish I woke up in the body of someone else today.
Is depression really a choice?
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