(no subject)
Today it feels like there are no answers. Pangs of nostalgia, daydreams of things that may have been, psychosomatic ripples of hedonistic thrills.
How can I know what to miss? There's a feeling in the back of my throat that tells me I have nothing to want. It squirms like the nightcrawler who can't accept his fate as the food of foods upon the brink of a trout's gastrointestinal tract.
Hope and faith evade me this evening, the water and dark clouds hold my aimless introspection as if the day might merely fade to nothing and never again give way to the conventions of time.
fuck.
How can I know what to miss? There's a feeling in the back of my throat that tells me I have nothing to want. It squirms like the nightcrawler who can't accept his fate as the food of foods upon the brink of a trout's gastrointestinal tract.
Hope and faith evade me this evening, the water and dark clouds hold my aimless introspection as if the day might merely fade to nothing and never again give way to the conventions of time.
fuck.