32, you and me.
9:07 p.m.//07.07.07

Mood: disgrace a sacred promise
Sound: Smashing Pumpkins -- Bleeding the Orchid

And out of this serenity, brought upon by nothing rationnal, I sour and ferment. I'll carry this around for hours. Why can't I just drop anything? Disconnection. I always think and talk about disconnection. I'd say it's the wave of the future, but it'd be wrong

It's my little secret, being this wrong. The scrutiny inward, sometimes completely negligible. Why do I keep coming back to this place? Lessons rendered useless as per usual. Fearful of life, terrible reasons. Terrible reasons.

You make me feel all these things that make me fancy my little secrets. My true everything. Tainte realization. A gift given back.

I'm amazed at these changes. These highs and these lows. Rigidness liquidated and recongealed into whatever I felt it was suppposed to be at the time.

My existence, great and terrible. Learning not to follow. Learning to free it all. Paying the price of escape. Paying the price for a dead end life. Realizing it all means nothing. My searching withers.

But right now, you've made me feel so full and purposed.


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