No, I did not die. Just restless about the future. Dissatisfied, as usual. With myself, as usual. I guess nothing changed. Changes take longer than I thought. But self-hatred, as I learned from previous experience, is not constructive. So I shall ignore it, as usual. And all is good. My self-indulgent life. It’s funny, I thought about babooning, I was there, on the balcony, experiencing a state that was appropriate for that particular activity. But I didn’t do it. I don’t understand why I didn’t do it. I mean I do… but I don’t want to speak it out loud…
I’m afraid I might be getting back to my old “thoughtful” self. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I hate that the pressure got to me. But at the same time it’s a tempting feeling. It has its benefits, but unfortunately it’s an endless roaming state. And who am I kidding? I managed to fool myself for a while, but obviously my true nature came forth. Shamelessly. I usually joke about these things, but now I might just consider them seriously. At the end of the day I know I’ll give in to myself anyway. I’ll still love making mistakes just to feel alive. I’ll choose the simple way. Not out, but in. And by definition, “in” is complicated. You can’t treat complicated with simple. Or can you? Gosh. Nothing ever works with people, does it? It’s so beautiful. I wanna leave it like that. Cause probably I won’t be able to get inside anyway. So, here you are. Untouched nonsense. And then touched, but not penetrated. I wish I could have you like that forever. I wish I would never long for more. But I will. I do, even now. But now I’m humble, cause I hate myself. So I won’t dare. Ok, dear words? Sing.
