Days blurring together and you're running after them. The packs of M&Ms are a specific number and it's simply insignificant altogether. The smiles and hellos make no difference and the effects of it all seem catastrophic in tiny ways that almost erupt as a volcano. The scissors almost stab the things you want the most while the OCD and duller things screw up the almost material thing that you've worked the most on. The stress isn't what they think it is. The gorgeous eyes, he got right but the emotions behind them, he doesn't have a clue about. The pressure in the head seems sharply constant and constantly dull. The anger seems psychotic and the bottle seems so weak. The little things are the biggest yet somehow the most irrelevant. You walk the ground and fly the sky but you're absolutely nowhere in between. So many big places you can choose to go, yet your choices are infinitely limited. The faces and places they consist of let you down constantly and the only sort of security seems to be an unfair small box where they say locks are required but there are ways around it...
J.
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