nothing comes to mind when i think- how lovely. perhaps the mysterious key that i had been looking for all this while was FATIGUE in its simplest and purest sense. simple enough?
itching to play touch, but no avenues to explore; too lazy to look and not looking forward to the complementary, paralyzing stress that comes with the territory. leisure touch, maybe; who'll take me? =) and all this after talking to a former teammate about her try.
nothing has been happening, and too much has happened. trying to turn back the hands of the clock might break me, but maybe i was never whole in the first place. what happens to all of our broken pieces, bits and fragments trailing everywhere messily behind us? people talk about emotional baggage; but maybe mine is a carry-on. light enough to be lugged around easily, but i still have to stow it away once i want to take flight. and the mess i leave behind? why should you care when i don't? ^^
december is already here and i'll be 0.25 centuries old pretty soon; how deliciously, euphorically depressing. what have i achieved so far?
what have you achieved thus far?
