Last day in bangkok

I found myself not wanting to move.
Would the world stop if I stop moving ?
Being sad, sadness takes away the color in life. Nothing seems exciting and worth venturing anymore.
It keeps one from wanting more and dreaming of fairly tales.
It's a very small and safe place.
As time passes the passage narrows and everything seems darker and smaller.
You become content and think this is my life.
Wanting to love and be loved.
Is that such a big crime ?
Doesn't love come from the inside ?
Why does  gender matter ?