To tell your realistic story, behind the imaginary world of “anonymous” is no fun.
You try to speak out from behind the shadows of people, places and things , but still fear the laughter and pointing of others.
Could you be crazy, does everyone have these doubts? Pains? Agonies?
You feel like the only one who truly understands is … Anonymous.
You know God is present, but to hear an audible voice of assurance would be even better.
The friends you trust disappear.
The lover you have seems to care, but is also focused on establishing their own share.
The family you cherish is breaking down.
Why is this all happening right now?
Anonymously you suffer in hopes for change. Just to escape this town is your main drain.
Anonymously , analytically, meticulously you pick your plans apart. Trying to find the holes, if any for your fresh start.
You get a boost of spontinaity, but have no support. So back down in the barrel you start.
Faith is your claim to fame, but realize finances and housing don’t say the same.
Draining this has become, but You’re just ready to run.
Will anyone notice?
Will anyone care?
That you’re anonymously drowning and gasping for air.