Sometimes

Sometimes it's just breathe, take a deep breath alone in your home, on your bed. Sometimes it's just the music, the feeling of the sound, the lyrics, the mix of it. Sometimes it's just a memory. Hard, strong, deep. Sometimes it's just envy, desire, peace and love, power. Sometimes it's just that you're tired and you can't do anymore. Sometimes it's just routine, systematically moving from one place to another, with no special plan, with nothing to do and nothing to be exicited for. Sometimes it's just the feel to write, to put your fingers over your pc.

Sometimes it's pity, it's life, it's sorrow. Sometimes it's believe you're evil. And the next moment believe you're saint. Sometimes it's the country, the politics, the institutions, the thieves. Sometimes it's just that you don't know, that you're waiting for something that you don't know what is it. Sometimes it's pressure, it's just a glass of hot milk, a blanket and a film in pajamas. Sometimes it's write in another language, in another mood, about everything and about nothing. Sometimes it's just write, no revision, nothing.

Sometimes it's just breathe.