I'm blue. I'm not sad or anything of the sort; my state of blues is more related to the typical melancholy that strikes me whenever I catch my
breast breath. There's no real explanation to why it comes, but it is sometimes as repugnant as a foul smell.
I blame it on the weather. My feelings have been put to a(nother) test, so it seems. I like and dislike it at once. I might committ, but I have forgotten how that feels and meanwhile I have become too damn independent. I think I'm becoming Gibbs. He's committing, too, so it seems. You never know with these things. I do leave it all to chance.
I feel good now. Except for a sudden hunger, it's all good. Last night I watched an intervention documentary about bulimia. I'm so glad I don't have any of these diseases. To say that your disease defines you and to embrace it and accept it, when you can escape it, that is frightening.
I assume you missed my random rambling, I saw some people lurking on my page. Well, this is a random rambling, aka free-writing. I am careless enough to post it on the internet, yet I don't allow my mind to free-write at its 100% capacity, otherwise I'd be banned.
My mind works in images. I see everything in a digital veil.
I miss writing. I must restart it, after so much time. I always say...tomorrow. One day, tomorrow will be today and I will write, just not...today, not now.
Ask me some questions here, I don't care who you are, just ask away. :)
*unedited photo, 2007.