So many doors and decisions.
I'm not very good at opening things.
I'm not very good at waiting, either.
I actually very much dislike waiting.
And I don't know what to think when I wait.
Especially when I'm waiting for people, and responses.
How I should feel.
How should I feel?
I'm done with where I am, and I just feel stuck.
But I'm not stuck. I could leave whenever.
I have just recently realised how I am not tied down anymore.
I'm not tied down to this area anymore, for any reason.
I like that feeling.
The feeling of relief.
I have an entirely new inspiration.
I love that feeling.
The feeling of inspiration.
It's like a renewal.
I've been meeting the best people as of late.
Repetitive word of the day: "Feeling."
I have so many painting/drawing/photography/graphic/videography/knitting ideas.
I am going to be up all night.
Thankfully not just because of Netflix.
I really need to get out to a club.
Dancing.Sweat.People.
I really tend to hate that I can't plan anything, and that I can't fully know what is going on...
but at the same time, I feel as if things went my way, then my spontaneity would disappear.
I enjoy my spontaneity.
I just wish that human beings were straight up.
I wish that I were straight up.
If only I could say most of the things that I am thinking.
Most of the things that I am feeling.
Life would probably be a bit more solid that way.
"What if Jesus died in an abortion?"
"Well, then, he would have died for our sins...sooner."
It's like an illusion,
That taste.
That smell.
That understanding,
can I believe it?
Those questions.
That possibility.
Am I coherent?
Am I observant?
Can I see the perseverance?
Am I like that?
And if it's honest,
If it's not for show,
Can I control it?
Should it be under patrol?
And if this fate exists,
Why can I resist?
I don't believe it.
And it's conscious,
With a conscience.
Am I the only one in fear of progress?
The timing is priceless,
Inevitably to happen,
But is life not to laugh at?
Or am I not to be forgotten?
And this existence,
What persistence,
I've only followed one restriction:
Not to feel.
For someone,
Or something.
Not to feel.
And if that is broken,
How can I be awoken?
How can I tell?
How do you know?
And if it's not just for show,
Will you just go,
Or take me with you,
Under your bow.
That aura,
That glow.
Fused into my skull,
Burned into my retina,
I don't want you to go.
I am so strange.
Life as a cat would be awesome.
For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.For you.
I really feel like being submerged in water right now.
And I'm sure that you look beautiful all wet.
I have been majorly stressed as of late.
It's this area, I swear.
My sleeping schedule is fucked. My skin is fucked. My eating habits are fucked. My entire thought process is fucked.
I need to leave.
And I miss all of the people who I used to talk to on a daily basis. Those people are great.
Of course, the new people who I speak to on a daily basis are great, but it's just nostalgia spouting.
I am in a constant.
I would really like to find x, while considering the possibility that I need to find y first.
I need to start posting more often. There is entirely far too much in my cerebrum to type in one post.today.
I'm going to sketch ideas out and watch stand-up.
Because that is all I feel like.
I would really like to find x, while considering the possibility that I need to find y first.
I need to start posting more often. There is entirely far too much in my cerebrum to type in one post.today.
I'm going to sketch ideas out and watch stand-up.
Because that is all I feel like.
