Under the happy sun

My thoughts are making me being afraid.


I m used to feel ready to cry.


I m used to feel uncertainty.


lack of understanding was hiding behind my tears-i couldn t read.

how does it feel to know that u r knocking to the door or ur home and nobody opens.

my usual dreams in childhood- i come home, beein sure that i live here but it s not my flat and i don t know where it s now, don t undarstand where it dissapeared. i m looking for and can t find.

the train stopped sharply-that moment i imagined myself dieing. what if the coach will be exploded? do i really wanna die now?


who am i to deside?