Sometimes I wish I was a rock. Because I wouldn't have feelings. I wouldn't feel any sorrow for this world, and I wouldn't suffer the frustration by the impossibility of changing it. I can't change the way some people act, or the way shit happens with no apparent reason. I wouldn't be stuck in pain each time I get my heart broken and I wouldn't question myself what's the reason of my existence. There are things worth living in life, I know. But what's the price for them? Sometimes melancholia fills the soul of the human being, as mine while I'm writing this, and so, I just have to wonder: What if I were a rock?
S.
