my thoughts are never coherent. jumbled into a tangled mess of brooding and musings. they used to be sprinkled with joy and naiveté. I’m not sure which one’s worse.
everything travels uselessly, circling over and over. again and again, until it drives me mad. resistance is futile so I give in to the chaos.
pensive moments are never simple for me. only when I fly am I able to breathe. finally stopping the commotion roaring in my head.