Looking aimlessly at the ceiling,
Counting the seconds one after another,
Until they become minutes, and minutes, hours,
Time seemed to pass but is it for real,
Maybe that’s why nature is never silent,
If silence is the price for the peacefulness,
I might prefer a chaotic mess,
As it is hard to hear one’s thoughts,
In the middle of the blissful noise,
The same noise I seem to miss,
This unfateful moment of my life,
Where I am left alone with my mind,
Trapped, drowning in a montage of self-hate,
Losing my motivation and faith,
Lying on the bed, lying to myself,
Negotiating my past while the future gets blurry,
While time is having its fun with no hurry.