Another page etched in on the book of my life
Whenever I actually stop and think about my perception of time passing, I just freak out about it. Many moons ago I had an acid trip with kracvweedeoval where I fixated on thinking about time, and since that point it gives me such a strange feeling whenever I pause to reflect on it. Like how the minutes in each day and the days themselves seem to pass so slowly, but that when I look back on it, it all seems like a blur and I feel like my life's passing me by or slipping through my fingers. I have been out here in San Francisco for almost a year now, and it feels so much longer but at the same time so much shorter of a time than that. And now I am getting ready for my seventh move in five years. And a whole new part of my life stretching ahead before me. I tend to get so lost in day-to-day stuff that when I actually do sit and think about where I've been and who I've been, and how far I've come and changed, it's overwhelming.