Updating this. I'm sorry I said what I did, true as it may be. There's things I cannot fathom that I know exist. I understand.
And so it is.
Five years is a long time. People change in five years. People grow. Their stories turn their egos swell, their navels replace their skies. And their circles widen and shy away from their distasteful displays of how their insides are. Or– in some twisted, childish way– how they ought to be.
Fuck that. We all teeter on the same edge. Its just that most of us manage to find the way back without spotlights to shine up the stage.
I don't believe anyone cares about you as much as you yourself do either. We aren't much but we're all we have. But not at the cost of old aching friends. Be mindful what you cast away. Someday when the mirrors around you cloud over it may be too late to reach back to all of us. And don't script out all you say and do. Just be. You knew how to once.
Its hard to be honest about people when you're trying not to give away their name. And futile when you know that only the wrong people will read it. So don't read it. I've a feeling you'll come here someday when you're old and I am dead. Find it then.
Ps: Glad I got introduced to the term this year. It fits perfectly.
Pps: This doesn't actually get to me. Its just a sullen mix of sleepiness, not-wanting-to-study-ness and a mild, dulling headache that makes it fester. I will be back with the brainless banter tomorrow. Until then; Life is a curvy bottle. Mirinda I think..