hypochondria

I always seem to struggle on cloudy summer days.
I hold in my chest a list of MUSTNOTs and MUSTs.

So.
There is that.


I've been thinking about things that I often think about and they make me think certain things about some things and I'm starting to think that these things that I'm thinking about are worth actually thinking about because they are, surprisingly, important things.

So.
There is that.

I don't think it's ever too late to start over. Not from the beginning. But start over from the ending.
Does that make sense?
No?
Hmm...


I'll be 20 soon.
And that's a strange thought.


I miss...something.



I think that was splendidly metaphorical for a drunken night's stumble back home. Let's cut through the field, you said. I have something to say, you said. I know I'm drunk, you said. And the world was spinning--either because I was happy or because I was drunk or maybe it was a bit of both. And then we were back on the road where we started. Deliciously wrought with symbolism and metaphor and lyrical beauty. Not bad at all for two drunk kids trying to get home.