How can you convince someone to live when you're not even sure of living yourself? Although I've moved further away from the abyss, temporarily anyway, I still feel like a hypocrite when explaining why X should live on. To be honest, I haven't really explained anything to X, only in my head, but X wouldn't listen if I tried. Block me out. And I don't know what to do.
I want to have a discussion about Kafka. I want to feel intellectual. I bought stone washed light blue jeans today. Perfect for summer. And it was sunny outside. And I closed my eyes again, no sensory tentacles out prodding for anything because who the fuck would care. Yes, that's right, the sensory thingies would get trampled before even reaching the shadow of a destination.
And I was high yesterday. So high I couldn't talk and still something felt out of place but I don't know why. And I don't care who reads this because everything is bound to get fucked up in the end. It's human nature. We are walking apocalypses, ending our own little worlds with some words or an action. It's sad really, that we take ourselves so seriously.
