The most frightening moments are those when all my clarity and conviction abandons me. I see another directionless journey ahead of me.
Strangers becoming boring because they don’t understand. Friends become boring because they understand too well.
My ideals become reality and crumble in my deromanticization. I need to build another dream.
I have successfully, albeit tragically, disillusioned myself of all the beautiful things that surround me.
I think people have me figured out. And their responses are automated.
The future does not excite me with its material possibilities. I am averse to accumulating useless knowledge. People nauseate me.
I know what I want. A baby.