BROKEN(and empty)Part 1
As I sat on the freshly painted, cement-fabricated chairs in front of the big brown and cream-painted hostel building, the clouds cleared up slowly letting out a cool comforting breeze as the day slowly wooed the night. I drew lines in the sand, my heart was heavy, my mouth had no words and I felt this consistent thump deep in my chest that somehow made my mouth dry. I had concluded that I was tired. Tired of keeping up the image of the girl who had her mind put together and her goals on each foot ready to play them right. I sat there remembering and comparing the tricks, dares and bucket list fantasies I had put myself through painting on the best poker face, meanwhile deep down I battled to get a little peace and quiet in my little quiet space. Who put me up to this? and Why was I always flurried! Always in this drained state, you know the state where you have no energy for life but are too chicken to take it? The state that all eyes are always on you, expectin...