This blog's not getting any younger. And to top it, it isn't getting much attention either.
Certain events seemed to have sucked up every ounce of creativity I thought I had. I feel as if I've generally been skipping life, fleeting through college, projects and a haze of smoke. Remember that scene in movies where the world around the protagonist spirals in a great speed while she's just there, oblivious. That, exactly.
I wish I could run away, make a parallel world full of music I love and fairy lights.
Where I would need no fucking schedule that runs through monotony.
Also, fuck you pragmatism.
Besides that, I am officially done with people. Yes, they are pretty, but they sap your energy, not to mention any ounce of self-restraint you might want to keep. I hate people. And their clones. And their shiny toes. But most of all, I hate the universe for being such a troll.
People may come fucking call it a phase between drags of neatly rolled pretentiousness, but to them I say fuck you too.
I need to sit down, unclog ever piece of junk neatly piling into my brain, and collect it in a big box I shall call people and dump it in a far away land.
Until then.
