My bell jar

5:47AM The sun rises again. Everything should be so simple. So perfect. It is. In a twisted perfect way.
I am afraid of the cold unromantic city .. scared of returng, of all the speechless white commotion, of cold places, of all the familiar faces, of mornings and evenings, of nights spent in a screechy old bed.
I am serene in my own bell jar.. A few more days.. A few more breaths of slow warm air..

I ask myself only one thing - will she still be true?

Being an asshole -

My mood is somewhat rainy. Self-blame and generally regrets of this sort are feelings I have not felt for some time. Today`s morning was a warm one. A loving, warm, sweet morning.
I fucked up.
This moment in my head lacks something very simple but very vital for what I wish to feel..
I am thankful to all of you for what I am. Sorry for for all that I did not yet become..