As time passes, I just realize that I do not really want to run to another place, though I try to convince myself that it’s like that.
I want to wear out my skin, change my heart, be another person. I thought the wars I’m fighting were with the world but I turn out to be my worst enemy.
And I always ask myself: who is to blame? Are those around me to blame because they’ve been throwing stones at me till I shattered into a million pieces or am I the one who should get blamed for not being strong enough?
Wanting to escape from your own skin is the worst form of wanting to find a way, because that’s when all the possibilities of finding peace will end.