memoirs of a klutz

i wrote a lot today. everywhere.

the boundaries between a day and the next is no longer clear. i live through time like an immortal. I hear the birds sleep and i hear them wake. I close my eyes with the sun bearing through my curtains, through my eyelids. Sometimes I eat to entertain.

Today, or yesterday, I can't be sure, the night ended like how the morning did. absymal. ominous. not encouraging. Lose the anger, the remaining sane bit of me says.

There is hope yet to come and feelings yet to go. One can never be too sure and we can only try.