Indulgence.


Eu sei que nunca posto em inglês, mas deu muita vontade, não aguentei [wth?].Bom, enfim, aqui está. Meio profundo, meio emo.
Meio eu mesmo, como todo mundo já deve saber:


It's just that old feeling that says that everything that you value will fall from that shelf that hides the sun from that window.
But the thing is: you're already used to loneliness. The days are all filled up with empty words from empty mouths, and honeslty: you know you have to let go of all of it, but time doesn't really help.
Actually, you don't need help, because you're used to it, as you know.
On the other hand, you're tired of drama.
Because, you know, it's not easy to stand your own unhappiness.
Because everybody knows you won't move that shelf.
You won't even take away some books to see at least a bit of sun light.
You won't bother waiting for someone to do your job.
Because you're used to loneliness and indulgence.

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