It's already Tuesday tomorrow. I recall it being Saturday, filled with anxiety that the next day was Monday. But what about Sunday?
The less I interact the more the days seem to blend together, blurring into moving colors and empty speech -- Wallowing in my own insignificance.
Within my sphere I see change happening and time is the cause of that. But what of beyond my sphere? Sometimes I question if I have ever seen past it.
Solitude is my escape. A home away from reality where decisions are based on my immediate happiness.
I will break free from this...but until then I sit in silence, watching the world go by, unaffected by my absence.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 1:46 AM UTC
It's already Tuesday tomorrow. I recall it being Saturday, filled with anxiety that the next day was Monday. But what about Sunday?
The less I interact the more the days seem to blend together, blurring into moving colors and empty speech -- Wallowing in my own insignificance.
Within my sphere I see change happening and time is the cause of that. But what of beyond my sphere? Sometimes I question if I have ever seen past it.
Solitude is my escape. A home away from reality where decisions are based on my immediate happiness.
I will break free from this...but until then I sit in silence, watching the world go by, unaffected by my absence.
