How ironic is it that waiting is both for and against time. We wait for time, but also run out of it as we do so.
You know that paradoxical feeling of needing and wanting to leave but also wanting to stay and keep the thing you had at the same time?
Ain't it funny how life fucked us up? When we thought we can make it on our own. We were so in a rush to get the hell out To live and take control of our own lives. But we always find ourselves at her mercy Whenever we are stuck at a dead-end.