"What's your advice about life?"
"Live Fast, Die Young." She said low. "Life taught me that in mere seconds we might be not breathing anymore and everything will be gone. So you've got to live your life as much as you can. Do e everything you want t...
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As the blinds are opened, the sun invades the room with warm light. I don't remember the last time my bedroom saw the daylight.
It looks beautiful outside. No clouds covering the blue sky, the sunlight lays gracefully on the buildings and the city moves along the way, busy and in a rush.
The window is opened, the fresh breeze of California winter rushing inside.
Everything is a mess. Not just my life itself, but my whole house as well. And I don't know how I let myself come to this point.
The motivation to live just drained out of my body and my only priority became writing and composing the album.
I'm trying. I'm trying my best to get myself back together. It has not been easy, not at all. But I'll get there. Baby steps.
The nightmares still haunt me at night, so sleeping hasn't been on my to do list.
I do sleep, but only two or three hours every day. Around seven in the morning is when I can get some rest. This routine has become exhausting.
The few times I can get more sleep, is when I get myself drunk. This self-destructive routine started and I didn't even noticed.
The nightmares just started showing up more regularly, I stopped sleeping well, the motivation went away and the obsession to finish the album grew day by day, frustration growing along.
And the longing for Duff didn't help that much either. It was this combo of situations and emotions that led me to this.
The bedroom is cleaner. I looks a lot better, but do I feel better after cleaning it? I'm not sure.
I'm trying to get a hold of myself and I thought that starting by cleaning my room, would help. I don't really think it did.
My eyes study the room, going around, seeing it looks like it did before I stopped caring.
Clean, the sun coming inside, bed made neatly and no pieces of clothes spread through the floor.
Although, this room looks nothing like the rest of the house. I haven't gone there yet. And I don't think I will today.
I'm tired. I feel like I cleaned ten mansion when I just cleaned my small bedroom.
Sitting on the bed, I grab the notebook pad where I've been scribbling the lyrics along with the chords for my songs. I play guitar. Sebastian taught me how to when we lived together and sometimes I would play with Duff and he would teach me some cool tricks and such.
I miss Duff. But he's almost home. Just one more week and he will be here, with his arms around me. I miss his scent, his warmth, his voice. I miss how he would hold me, or sing to me and the way he caressed my skin with his fingertips. Just thinking about it, it takes my breath away. He has that effect on me. He fills my stomach with butterflies, my chest gets warms and happiness grows inside me.
