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things tend to end the way they start. so it makes sense that right now i am feeling particularly alone and overworked and whatever.

nervous to turn the radio on. video gaming. playing catchup. feeling like a bird in the rooms full of windows. nothing is safe.

the good things can be temporary and the bad things can become luggage. it makes no sense at all, and it makes perfect sense.



we grow up around tones of voice, and those tones mean something to us. we bring our ears for sarcasm or a lack of concern along with us everywhere we go. that is us at our most average.

it's a funny thing that gets us questioning things that should be a given.

another funny thing: the characteristics you find yourself loving most about a person or situation can end up being the same things that drive you farther and farther away if the chemistry isn't just right.

but then again, i think maybe that makes perfect sense, too.

it makes perfect sense.

bonchance.