/

I think every couple of weeks it comes to me, and I ignore it, try to ignore it, completely ignore it, knowing very well it's there, waiting like a long lost mother.
But I simply cannot, and I keep myself unbelievably busy. Unbelievably busy, that even my parents don't believe me.
So busy, and I let myself drown, lost in time, more and more work. I don't want to know it's October already. Another artshow in November. College one doesn't count.
Fucking masochist. Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing. All these things, but what for? I'm burning out faster than a meteor in the ozone layer. Apasal nak metaphor over over?
Why. Why I even bother.
Still I comfort myself with... never mind.
My long lost mother waits with such loyalty, I run to her crying. For the right reasons? For no reason?
... I tell myself you're not there anymore. And yet...




I don't have time. Not for you, not for this.




Goodbye.
//0142 slowly now, slowly.