It must be that! It must be, there is no other explanation.
In a couple of mutiples of a dozen minutes I am going to London & there is never anything very wrong with a day like that.
Maybe my soul is leaking, or my brain. I have no capacity to think, form coherent sentences or infact, a personality. It glitters like a far-off fading prospect, and everything is tinged with the ridiculous and TRIVIAL.
It is difficult to know which is real life; here or at college, when I am quite certain neither are, although I am told "people say" that life is hard and also "what you make it" and all sorts of other things that I don't have time for, because first surely, we should find out where it is, or what it exists of. I am going to run away.

NOW: I am all shiny and finished and plastered over.
AND NOW: Paul is here and we are going.
Bye!


Feeling:
Listening to:
Pretending:

last * next