Please don’t cry we’re designed to die

“I don't want to have to argue with people,” he says. “Just to be myself.” It feels unfair and unending, like having to run as fast as you can just to stay in one spot.

Words are being painfully evasive. So many brilliant thoughts and views captured on pages that seem to only serve to discourage me. I don't have time for this. I haven't written anything creative in well over a month and I have to say it feels a lot like drawing in desperate breaths after nearly drowning. It hurts and offers little relief, but it'll settle eventually, once thought catches up with feeling.

Music: On and on and on - Wilco
Mood: Melancholic