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sorry for the bullshit...

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Sebaslie Huber

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sorry for the bullshit...

When sadness soaks you in you can’t flee it. It reaches out its bushy tentacles, seizing, chasing your spirit, grasping your mind. Each attempt of escape is hopeless. You don’t know where it comes from, the source being most of the time of quite irrelevance. It lies upon your eyes, like all the invisible pollens accumulating on the surface, triggering sneezes, coughs and blurry view. Swollen eyes, sensitive, saddened, through tears that won’t emerge, too frightened to roll down the virgin hills of your cheek