my head hurts.
and to the mediocre life i just had for the past week, i propose a toast.
brain's still intact, i see.
along with unnecessary emotions.
what is it that i loath?
the bus rides?
the solitary moments?
or rather the chance to feel enclosed and small in a big crowd?
probably the amount of questions i ask myself every friggin' day.
the rambling, the mouthing without being noticed.
my ability to give and not expect.
my body is my jail-cell.
my brain is the warden.
my emotion disappoints.
never worry, ghosts.
the writing's dull but the meaning's full.
it's not for a thought, not to be felt, not to be questioned.
i'm fine, really.
i just need a jump start.
and for the rest, i'll walk.