(no subject)
Late at nights, the small sounds define the surroundings. The small chips that shudder the darkness from the glass kissing the bottle; the scratch tearing as the lighter flicks; Even the smoke can be heard pushing and stretching.
Im doing my best to ignore all the pockets of pressure creeping up, not weighing too heavily into anything, my only known defense to fear. I am avoiding making any choices in matters, an attempt to protect me from myself. I feel rash, and angry, and just generally confused, each acting on each other. Everyone I know just seems to barely know what to fucking do with themselves, each of us wondering how ready we were, looking at the fires we started.
We just stare, beheld in the glow.
Im doing my best to ignore all the pockets of pressure creeping up, not weighing too heavily into anything, my only known defense to fear. I am avoiding making any choices in matters, an attempt to protect me from myself. I feel rash, and angry, and just generally confused, each acting on each other. Everyone I know just seems to barely know what to fucking do with themselves, each of us wondering how ready we were, looking at the fires we started.
We just stare, beheld in the glow.