Rewriting the Script of Destiny
Dayana Ediciones Simone La Belle
47.7k Words / Ongoing
0
Hot
45
Views
Add to Library
0
Hot
45
Views
Introduction
"Family is the most important thing, Eron."
I'm sick of hearing that phrase every day without qualm.
They seek to include me in the standard picture where the only thing that matters is the happiness of others; the happiness of those around you. It is typical to think that you should care about those who, according to the rules of modern society, love you the most. But does owning the same blood connection make the affective connection between people? I want to know if I am the only one who is wrong.
I don't feel that warmth in my chest that I'm supposed to feel.
Do you have something you want to do?
I look at the crumpled papers balled up in the corner of the room, next to my piano. I bite down hard on my lower lip, not caring about the fact that it's parched from the summer and might crack.
Is it really there?
I won't lie; I miss it. The reason my piano is taking dust twenty-four hours a day since one hundred and eighty-two sunsets ago is ever present in my soul. That memory clings to my memory with no intention of letting go and setting it free. The only thing that persists is this emptiness that causes my discomfort.
I'm sick of hearing that phrase every day without qualm.
They seek to include me in the standard picture where the only thing that matters is the happiness of others; the happiness of those around you. It is typical to think that you should care about those who, according to the rules of modern society, love you the most. But does owning the same blood connection make the affective connection between people? I want to know if I am the only one who is wrong.
I don't feel that warmth in my chest that I'm supposed to feel.
Do you have something you want to do?
I look at the crumpled papers balled up in the corner of the room, next to my piano. I bite down hard on my lower lip, not caring about the fact that it's parched from the summer and might crack.
Is it really there?
I won't lie; I miss it. The reason my piano is taking dust twenty-four hours a day since one hundred and eighty-two sunsets ago is ever present in my soul. That memory clings to my memory with no intention of letting go and setting it free. The only thing that persists is this emptiness that causes my discomfort.
READ MORE
About Author
Latest Chapters
Comments
No comments yet.