25 April 2012 - 12:12 Hrs.'Ama says I'm obsessive. That I become fixated on something, anything for a while, completely submersing myself in it, then just as quickly dismissing it coldly and moving on to my next great fascination. Thus the cycle begins anew.
Don't know why I'm bringing it up now, except that it's been bugging me for while. (I can feel my blood pulsing strongly in my brain. I can almost hear the liquid pushing through my arteries, throbbing back to my heart through my veins.) I know she speaks the truth. I know it's in my power to change it. Not sure how, not sure if I really want to. (Something in this room smells weird. Toxic, almost. And no, I haven't farted, dumbass.) Sometimes it's far more comfortable to stay, stay tangled in the suffocating web of the mundane, the daily routine of adult life. Stay bogged down and dream: of a better house, a better job, free time, free beer, a free ride...
We are sentient specks of dust, cosmic stuff, grouped together to form mighty dreaming giants, but meaningless dust all the same.