I must have deleted this very line a thousand times.
My thoughts just keep racing, you see?
I really can't stop it.
I can only hope that whatever spews out is worth writing down.
It's not completely chaotic.
It is directed by a particular condition.
It's like a combination of broken-heart-disease and anxiety-virus.
I should be happy right now.
But I'm not.
I should also be asleep.
That's not happening either.
But I've got a bag full of sunshine.
At least in that world I'll find some peace.
I know it's not exactly a positive thing.
To everyone else.
But I like it.
Things like that, they make me feel free.
You can call it escapism if you want.
But aren't you running too?