(no subject)
How do I tell you that my heart has nowhere to go? That I am trapped in a space where I am continually moving yet going nowhere? That I want so much and nothing at all. And that somewhere in the process of growing up, I have forgotten who am, where I came from, and where I am going to.
Give me back my literature, my honours room, my long conversations with Susan Ang about fantasy. Give me back simpler times, simpler desires, simpler loves and lovers.
How do I tell you that I am tired, more tired than soul, body, or mind can comprehend?