Life is a bed. There are neither roses nor cottons. There are neither feelings of comfort nor feelings of warmth. It is just a bed for you to rest your tired soul and recharge you for the work tomorrow. There is no love in this society; Just plain old materialism. A working female can only fall in love with a male student only if he has better potential than her. A man can dance with his friend’s girlfriend because he is drunk. A male can forsake his friends for a better tomorrow. I can make my heart as cold as stone to prevent anyone from coming in. I can. 

Working on a Sunday sucks. It manipulates your mind to think that you are missing all the action. It stops your feet from waltzing out. Worse of all, it keeps your mind at anything except work. 

But on the flip side, you feel at ease being home alone and a sense of peacefulness intrigues you. I like this peacefulness. Especially after all the shit that has just happened, I really do need this peacefulness.