(no subject)
Happiness is a warm gun...
I'm restless. Again. My skin is too stationary. I don't want out of it, I just want it to move with me. Inside, I'm jumping, rushing, running, screaming. I move. But outside...outside I'm still, silent, bored. Bored? Life is so short, so transient, so vibrant. What is there to be bored with? But what else can I be, when it's moving, moving past me, leaving me behind in a glittering cloud of dust that fills my lungs and weighs me down.
Om jai jagdish hare, swami jai jagdish hare...