Hazy mornings hold a lot of uncertainty. The moist breeze kissed her cheeks as though bidding her good morning. Good morning, what a brutal snide. She squinted to shield eyes from the rising sun's glare which was piercing through her irises. That short discomfort wasn't at all comparable to the pandemonium that's raging inside her head. Breathe, she breathed, breathe. Why was it that there's always this dilema of choosing between the right and the wrong, the truth and the lies. Why was it that there's always two sides to everything, the pros and the cons, the good and the bad. Shouldn't there be just black and white? This gray region, this uncertainty, this variation, this...ambiguity shouldn't even be there. It's just wrong. And the worst part would be having to hide the truth in the name of protecting something...someone. So what was the one word to connote truths in lies?

She hates hazy mornings.

Labels: word diarrhoea