I'm in a funk.

It's strange how one trivial and ultimately unlikely event can completely alter your existence, and how it can lead to thoughts and desires that take control of a significant part of your being. And you wonder if the person would have ever bothered if they had known just how erratic you were and could be, and how you wield absolutely nothing into such pitiful dreams. And i know i could make them happen, but i never will.

I could never go insane. Each time i do something that borders on insanity, i catch myself and encourage it to grow, until i wonder just why i choose to attempt to force such things. In catching myself, i grasp again sanity.

I came to several profound conclusions the other day, but they all have seemed to slip away in hours of avoidance of thought. I waste hours, and then regret watching my life slip away whenever i stumble upon a moment of clarity. All it takes is looking in the mirror, and dreams are born. Ambition blooms, meaningless details explode into importance. Everything becomes crucial and imminent; you are entirely lost in the moment and every single second captivates your thought and attention.

Things are changing soon. I'm in a funk, maybe it'll snap me out of it. I feel worthless and old; dry and stupid.

I'm moving out soon i hope.

Why do i bother with this? I want to write. Writing is another one of those things that infest your mind in moments of clarity. It, just like everything else, slips away when you drift back down and settle. All moments need to be clear and brisk. I hate everything else.

I'm in a funk. You could bring me out of it, but would you ever want to? And will i ever see you again?

I want a pair of Doc Martens. Simply because of the image they hold, which in part is a result of my father always wanting a pair (and never having one).

Meek, lost girls hiding and waiting under yellow umbrellas. Where are they?

Everybody wants to be saved. Is anyone ever?

Everything unseen always looks better in your mind.