I hate Sundays. I always have hated. No particular reason though. Sunday mornings are extraordinarily slow and after noon, time flies sitting by a bullet train. Sundays are lousy and erratic. While in school all I remember doing on Sundays is go to class and study. Then come back home and sleep. That is how my ended. There was no suspense, no thrill. Not that I went on a adventure each day!
Sundays still are bad, Because I don't keep an account of time on Sundays. I wake up with my groggy eyes half opened, rush to the washroom and loiter around my house until noon. Then I rush to class after which I came back home tired enough to land on my bed. This is a life I never would want to life. I don't want a particularly exciting life but this somehow makes me sick.
Considering the person I am, I want to travel across the world. See new places, meet new people and taste new food, breathe new air. That is the person I am. I need to be left free. I think everyone has to be left free. Constraining someone from doing something is a sin and somehow that is what Sundays do
to me!
Sundays still are bad, Because I don't keep an account of time on Sundays. I wake up with my groggy eyes half opened, rush to the washroom and loiter around my house until noon. Then I rush to class after which I came back home tired enough to land on my bed. This is a life I never would want to life. I don't want a particularly exciting life but this somehow makes me sick.
Considering the person I am, I want to travel across the world. See new places, meet new people and taste new food, breathe new air. That is the person I am. I need to be left free. I think everyone has to be left free. Constraining someone from doing something is a sin and somehow that is what Sundays do
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