a self-destructive journal
There it is again, untimely at this hour of the day, when the sun refuses to set by 6pm, and the curtains still cant withhold its golden glory. You’d think her retreat of slumber would fulfill its purpose, but sadly, daylight had other plans. Its the 3 rd of June, Eid is a day after. On the last day of Ramazan, she woke up 4 hours prior to breaking her fast, in the hopes she wouldn't have to bear the thirst for too long. But surely, its not the thirst that’s consuming her at the moment. Its loneliness. She’s got friends, she’s got plenty people. genuinely close people. But, she doesn’t have a friend here, like the one she used to bear the sight of after waking up. After being force fed a relationship of enforced good and honesty, losing it still causes her to spiral down a drain of absolute nothingness. She’s got things on her mind she’d like to talk about, as any human would. They’re from the very personal columns of her brain and heart. Except, she assumes no friend woul
