Almost over ...
No, no one has to realize a meaning in the following entry. There are only scraps of thought. Nothing else.
It goes so fast. Today is the 12th December. December . Seems to me, as it were flying past me at the time and I would just listless beside it, motionless, stunned.
This year flew by, all that has happened seems to have happened only yesterday, perhaps the day before. Everything went by so fast as it came. Few things remained constant. At least as far as my humble self.
I think too much, eat too much, drink too much thinking, still too much, and do so little. Too little could say.
I lose the objectives of the Eyes. Put me new, lose sight of this and eventually the mind. I thought
smash, only to merge at the next opportunity. And it's always so depressing to start from zero.
I am so confused in my head, lost in thought me the cold winter wind blows through the day. And once again draws the life pass me by. Is it just a phase? A fall in the final stage of depression? Or is it the daring attempt of the here and above all to escape now, into a somewhere and some point? Somewhere, sometime I'll find out probably.
My body hurts. I feel sick, I still pervades life and passion. That being there is the meaning of life itself The way I think , I write. But I joints, or I exaggerate?
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