Day 10
I woke up today.
Yes, that's the start, no angels seem to have fallen by my bedside, but that's alright, there are no devils either. It's a normal day, which could be confused for a boring one too, and you wouldn't find me correcting you, for perhaps it is one, boring and monotonous.
It's nearly been 10 days of my stay here, wherever I am, and it's true that I hate this place a lot less than what I used to initially. But that's no magic, that's what happens, I guess, feelings subside, be it the good or the bad. And that's to say, I don't love it any more than I did either. But so long as I'm staying put, it works.
Now as I write this, and as you may read it, probably, hopefully, it should be clear to us both, neither knows what they are doing right about now. I'm typing this because I've nothing better to write about, and yet I want to, because that's how madness works, I guess.
Also this is a conscious effort to distance myself from writing about anything romantic, or relating to love, or just plain sad, which is kinda my forte, for all the wrong reasons. It reads mightily like emotional porn to me, which isn't to say that I don't like my work, because some days, I really could jerk off to it, but then my better sense prevails and I feel I shouldn't be putting out shit, I don't believe in.
And that's really the crux of the problem here, I wouldn't mind sounding like a broken teenager, with a limited range of emotions and vocabulary to borrow from, if I actually believed in what I write about. But I don't, I am a cynic at heart, sceptical of most things good, but social media really is a facadé, so it's like who cares so long as noone does, but fuck it, there are days, and then there is us.
It has been a rant from the very start, and so I'm not sure if I know when or how to finish it.
So here it is, consider it finished.
Yes, that's the start, no angels seem to have fallen by my bedside, but that's alright, there are no devils either. It's a normal day, which could be confused for a boring one too, and you wouldn't find me correcting you, for perhaps it is one, boring and monotonous.
It's nearly been 10 days of my stay here, wherever I am, and it's true that I hate this place a lot less than what I used to initially. But that's no magic, that's what happens, I guess, feelings subside, be it the good or the bad. And that's to say, I don't love it any more than I did either. But so long as I'm staying put, it works.
Now as I write this, and as you may read it, probably, hopefully, it should be clear to us both, neither knows what they are doing right about now. I'm typing this because I've nothing better to write about, and yet I want to, because that's how madness works, I guess.
Also this is a conscious effort to distance myself from writing about anything romantic, or relating to love, or just plain sad, which is kinda my forte, for all the wrong reasons. It reads mightily like emotional porn to me, which isn't to say that I don't like my work, because some days, I really could jerk off to it, but then my better sense prevails and I feel I shouldn't be putting out shit, I don't believe in.
And that's really the crux of the problem here, I wouldn't mind sounding like a broken teenager, with a limited range of emotions and vocabulary to borrow from, if I actually believed in what I write about. But I don't, I am a cynic at heart, sceptical of most things good, but social media really is a facadé, so it's like who cares so long as noone does, but fuck it, there are days, and then there is us.
It has been a rant from the very start, and so I'm not sure if I know when or how to finish it.
So here it is, consider it finished.
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