Maybe there's a way out.

I've been waiting. I don't know what I have been waiting for, but I have been waiting, so much that I find it so ridiculous. I feel as if I am anticipating something, expecting something - just that I do not know what it is. This doesn't really make sense.

I feel like telling the entire world, but I realised that it was such a small matter. Too small that it isn't anything worth mentioning. Cuz I'm too afraid the story will end the moment I begin telling. Now where do I start?

I hate this feeling. I can't help myself. I don't know what this is. I have a bad feeling.

I don't know what to say anymore. You see how lost this makes me? So much I have to say inside and it'll only become a jumbled string of words which will never make sense. I can't even put those feelings into words.