Until I'm Allowed Finally
I have written pages of thoughts and dreams in the past wekk in my notebook. Purple ink stains my hands.
There is stress, always stress, gnawing down on my gut every time I stop to think. I'm not sure of the cause. I have named the dark circles under my eyes.
The key is to let go, of course you'll say, but then I always feel so juvenile. This is hardly worth writing about. High school life is all I know in all of its trivialities, and I realize this full well with a sort of sad wonder. And then I get stressed again, and there is no song I've come across that can soothe me.
I'm taking a two-week hiatus from writing. I will still write the necessary things of course; Charlemagne and mitochondria and Lenny and George will get their full due. But the things that are a different sort of necessary--this blog and my notebook and the scribbles on my left palm--have got to stop for the time being. I cannot cope with them. My life is good, when I have the energy to live it, but these things, these words are bearing down on me.
I hope to come back to this blog with happiness, energy, lightheartheadedness, and a life.
Failing this, my hands will be clean once more.
PS: Someday, I want to be my own version of Jett. I don't reckon it's possible, but it's a goal nonetheless.
Fresh squeezed by melly at 4:16 PM