rc
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
"Lacking things to keep you busy."
And as I type away another badmouthing, and scream 'die' at the top of my voice, and miss the enemy by a scroll and click, I feel sweat trickling down my chest. I'm not supposed to be straining, this is the time of recreation (sort of), but here I am, with a heart palpitating mercilessly. And then, a realization dawns on my face: I've not won anything, at least, not yet. I continue on my endless journey for enjoyment, whilst you're memories, you're smell, and of course, you're deadly smirk float by. Hell, I'm already on my way home, and I see it. Fuck that, I'm sleeping.
... You're right, I lack things that'll keep me off the edge.
smiled at the sun again @ 7:09 PM,
