Still me
All week and all the days that I walk I feel a pressure in my head. It sucks to have a headache, but I guess maybe it is a little bit of stress. To worry about the unknown is such a common thing to jump to, and when dreams seem like curses and love makes you want to tie Cupid to a wirling board and toss knives at him then it is time to go. Weird how you can run away from yourself but revert back to being your worse enemy. Smoking and drinking. Cursing and fighting, but all in all something we can not escape from. Well I still run from myself but on a treadmill. I still carry the weight of the world, but lift weights to have that look I like. I still look at the mirror and stare into the abyss of my eyes, and I still dream about things that are said and will never be taken back.