It feels extra lonely tonight.

Attempting to settle this wave of panicked worry with two tubs of ice cream in my hand.
Maybe it’ll work once I get to eat them.
What happens after though?

I hope we figure it out.
I wish I saying it without having to hope.

Looking in all the wrong places.

Things that were supposed to be,
and things that never were in the first place.

Heavy days, they don’t last forever.
Just today, and yesterday.
And the day before.
And the day before the day before.
And the day before the day before the day before.
And the day before the day before the day before the day before.

I wish the cycle would end.

/

In a completely different context, this can also work as a prose for periods lol.
Hey, at least the jokes didn’t stop.

Some days, the light eludes
and I have to remind myself
to breathe.

blogger.com

I haven’t typed those words in years.
Like how I haven’t done so with purplesand.blogspot.com until... the other day, by the sea.

The site loaded and an unexpected audible “wow” released
Looking back at me, a derivative of 1s and 0s, was a logged in dashboard with the words SECRETLY, RANDOMLY.

How was I somehow still logged in?

Anyway, hello.
You feel familiar.
Let’s continue where we last left off.

Screwed up body clock.

/

Oh, hi.

The Villain.

The lonely hearts club.

So caught up with the future. What about now?

-

Look please. Listen please.

All's been exhausted.

Exhausted.

Exhausted.

Exhausted.

A message from Richard Branson:

"Life’s too short to waste your time doing things that don’t light your fire. If you don’t enjoy what you’re doing, or aren’t having a lot of fun – despite the fact that you’re making a lot of money or rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous – then it’s time to move on to the something that does make you happy."

--

Is it stupid to be taking advice from virtual Richard Branson? a.k.a. Is it naive to think that this is my sign and that it's as simple as this?

Playing pretend.

too early to be jaded.

trying, trying.

Is this all my sole doing, or maybe more aptly, undoing?

Sometimes I wonder if there exist a certain self destructive trait within me that I've just yet to acknowledge.

I try but in my head it's

excuses,

excuses,

excuses.