Listen,
I’m into making noise music now. Mainly because I’m at a loss of making melodies.
I’ve been meaning to write more. My heads are out of the clouds now. More time to think.
Is this what being in contact with others mean? Just to feel more foggy? A constant rasp of whisper between my ears.
I guess this is all I have known for the time being. And I don’t even know being.
It’s just an ache to know there is suffering. And not the ironic kind, or in the humoristic vein of trauma. And I’m useless too. I forgot that part.
Destined to fall.
Just unable to calm the nerves.
And I still don’t have any idea of it.
I remember in 2015 I was so lost. And I felt the seconds ticking and ticking. Now I’m at the latter half, where time is but an impediment. Just flow into the stream of past. Please.
howtotellthyme 