So raise your hands up high and let this rain pour on. The sky heavy with anticipation as it gets ready to shower us all with its so called 'blessings'. My dad told me he may have a lung-related disease. Fuck. The swelling in my throat refuses to let me talk. I always believe in being completely open with my feelings and emotions, but somehow this world thinks otherwise. Clip your wings, your down on the floor. Downcast by many and trodden on daily. Do you know how it feels like to be me? Permanently stuck in this hole of 'you-will-not-accomplish-anything' Wash me away with this rain. I should not whine and bare my emotions too much. I somehow am okay with it and would love to embrace another person's emotions. But no one likes it. Thus i am the only weird one. The only island without a tree.