mood : fuck...
muzik : Gin Wigmore (ist aber irgendwie nicht so dolle...)
and ? : ...go!
----------
Ich war selten so unmotiviert irgendetwas zu tun, und das gerade jetzt, 5 Tage vor den Klausuren *seufz Wo ist der "Selbst-schlag-Hammer", wenn man ihn mal braucht?
Dazu kommt, dass meine Wohnung alle nötigen Mittel zur Verfügung stellt, einen gänzlich abzulenken:
-> einen Laptop und entsprechende böse Seiten wie Mangafox
-> entzückende Manga, vor allem von Nekota-Sensei ﾍ(;´Д｀ﾍ) ~♥
-> das neue Professor Layton (ich kann nichts dafür! Es war im Angebot und 37% off und wer weiß, wie lange das Angebot gehalten hätte und ob's noch da gewesen wäre und ich musste es einfach kaufen (T__T))
-> ein Sofa mit einer kuschligen Daunendecke und wundervolle Yaoi-Fanfictions (ab 18!)
-> und (das Schlimmste) Copics und Zeichenutensilien
Und das alles dann gepaart mit totaler Unlust auf's Lernen und Arbeiten und einem Wetter, das ja nur zum Schlafen einladen kann...
Und trotzdem, -auf auf!- zur Arbeit, feeling like Sayako
There's nothing in the fridge
other than some tea and medicine.
After I swallow a tablet,
my bosom becomes light and filled with anxiety.
My fingers are sliding across my iPhone's screen,
and my hair feels sticky and yucky.
I don't expect there to be anything pretty,
not even one.
I want to die, I want to die quietly.
The wrist that I accidentally injured before
has now become stained with brown marks without my notice.
Since my eyelids are tightly shut,
even when morning peeks in through my curtains,
there's no way I'd notice.
My friends, like Eri or Takayuki,
in truth, look so busy that
I don't think they have the leisure
to be worrying about other people.
And yet, I wonder why I keep smiling with my dimples.
I don't expect there to be anything
about my ordinary family or life
for me to be proud of.
I feel so sleepy, I feel so sleepy,
that I wish I could sleep to the point of becoming paralyzed,
then get up, take a bite of an apple, and fall back to sleep.
While feigning unconsciousness,
even if I wobbly get up to my balcony and stand in the wind,
there's no way I'd be able to fly.
Even the smile that I have loved so much,
even the music that has changed my life,
why is everything repudiating me now?
I want to die, I want to die quietly.
The wrist that I accidentally injured before
has now become stained with brown marks without my notice.
Since my eyelids are tightly shut,
even when morning peeks in through my curtains,
I WILL NOT NOTICE.
Even if I lament the fact that
those sad days will continue on,
I don't expect anything
to heal at all.
There's no way my wounds would heal.
I SHOULD JUST DISAPPEAR.
Yeah, I should just disappear.
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen