Down. Set. Run.

Hello again and a fancy meeting you here.

I'm still home, and life is still happening quickly.

Moving will take place soon, and goodbyes are forthcoming and make me cry (again).

I need to detach enough where tears are sparse, however the social being within a quiet shell pleas nightly for conversation at the minimum.

Tonight's words were good.

Let's start to measure out life not by coffeespoons, but by stories and words. Let's make our dreams matter more.

Reality isn't important. Facts will change, as will minds and hearts. But stories. Memories and the tales of our lives,
the one's in our minds,
will be the important ones.

Maybe if we swallowed our words we would become wiser, like brains, hearts, and eyes . What would you take back?
What would I?


Living some place new, without a known soul for 45 minutes close, will be awkward.

How do you meet people?

Do you have to be social with reality?

Will I ever stop asking questions? No.

Detachment and trying to connect is messing with my mind. If only there was a guidebook to living my own life, with a more interesting protagonist.
I miss the other characters constantly.

Professionalism

I am now employed. A productive member of society.
Hopefully, positive.

Less than 36 hours ago, I had no prospects.
Professional life was nothing and had no hope of going anywhere.
Let me work in service to make the past four years mean nothing.
Love life was a confusing heartbreak joke,
and probably still is, but let's add awkward to that.
My family and friends in the hometown were full of love
kind words, words of escapism.
My mental state is always one step away from going apeshitcrazy.

I will leave the room of dichotomy, which may help my headspace.
What is wrong with that term? No one seems to like it.
I will leave the house of walls whispering Angst, auf Deutsch, bitte.

Pack away the shit to deal with later, because reality is happening too quickly.
Contract.
Retirement.
Move.
Single?
Only 20.
Scream, please.
Excited? Nervous is the word of the day!

When were people able to read my thoughts?

I should hide my eyes and cover my mouth
because I don't understand this.
How to keep the light hearted allusions to other conversations had with other people away from the toxicity of relationships.
How can I be honest when I try to avoid stories and people tell me secrets of betrayal?

How to not cry when you are no longer able to fly to Neverland?