It's been raining non-stop. I prefer everyday to be like this.
A part of my brain is dying. Fast. It feels like half of my body will fall asleep soon after. I'm shutting down soon because I cannot take how uneventful days have been this week.
... Come on.
The conversations have still positioned themselves towards that -
the past.
And so does everything I do. The past.
So much about moving on and moving forward and making the most of the definites. But nobody will probably notice. I can just keep up appearances and they can just do what they do, and it'll be as if I didn't fall. Not worth it anyway; I might as well not see him when he shows up. It was never between me and them. Never between me and him anyway.
There is nothing to do, so I'm exceedingly idle. All I can do is ponder. And tear up.
Whatever.
(waiting)
Why am I waiting?
... Bye.
