I don’t know how to make this sound beautiful, how to write about regrets in a way that still holds some sort of elegance in the words. But regret is not a beautiful thing. If regret was a color, it would be black ... the deepest onyx. So deep that you drown in it. The current pulls you under, and you’re searching for the grasp of an ally to save you. But none come. And as the inky death overwhelms you, you begin to question your choice of friends.
The Monkey
- Queen Jordy
- Zürich, Switzerland
- Have not much to say. Am one hell of a narcissistic // fragile // sick dreamer that has the will to sabotage other people's secret. Have always wanted to be a fun cheerful person in the middle of some miserable. since young, I am inclined towards music, photography and fashion. yet listed as *Distractive & Provocative* .... But have changed a lot lately... exit light enter night take my hands off to never ever land.