mostly i manage. i do. i don't suffer from a lack of things to do, as i suffered last december. on the contrary: it's all i can do to get the things done that i want to get done. and most of the time i manage to be rather pleasant, even if i do not extend it to being utterly happy.
once in a while, though, i wake up at four in the morning and can't get back to sleep because i miss you with such abandon. i've used that word before, haven't i? recklessness, then. reckless abandon. vehemence. i miss you with more vim and vigour than i put into most other activities.
my conscious life is populated with gaping spaces that nobody else can fill. funny how that is. i've stopped analysing the validity of my feelings. i think, perhaps, that it was a sensible decision to make. worry causes no good; only ulcers and hair loss.
so many adventures. i wish you were around so i could tell you. you have no idea how many seconds of the day i wish it. all my brightest moments were lost with our conversations. if you found out they meant so much to me, why were you so cruel as to take them right away?
once in a while, though, i wake up at four in the morning and can't get back to sleep because i miss you with such abandon. i've used that word before, haven't i? recklessness, then. reckless abandon. vehemence. i miss you with more vim and vigour than i put into most other activities.
my conscious life is populated with gaping spaces that nobody else can fill. funny how that is. i've stopped analysing the validity of my feelings. i think, perhaps, that it was a sensible decision to make. worry causes no good; only ulcers and hair loss.
so many adventures. i wish you were around so i could tell you. you have no idea how many seconds of the day i wish it. all my brightest moments were lost with our conversations. if you found out they meant so much to me, why were you so cruel as to take them right away?
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