A bad day is one to remember, especially when you think
about things you wish had happened that would’ve made the day
better, but it just didn’t turn out that way. But why?
What are bad days for?
To make my blood boil?; to make a heartache that I cannot handle?; to make frustration with things that are far from my control? I want to know
When joy is absent from my heart and is, rather, replaced with
anger or despair, what lifts me up is sitting in my bathroom.
In my bathroom, I can think.
I can be on my phine for as long as I please.
I can cry without anyone knowing.
I can be in the most unapologetic way possible, and it wouldn’t concern a soul, because I have my privacy.
I vent to the silence that is not really silence.
I look at the four walls as I take in a deep breath to remind myself
that these walls are going to be here tomorrow, and all days to follow, and nothing can change that, so I have to leave these walls in order to see a brighter day in the future.