Bovine

“How far away the stars seem, and how far is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart.” - Yeats

I said I would read but my room smells like pizza and pomegranate soda, so obviously that deterred me.

Though, I do not hold contempt for the universe, I sigh. My guilt remains partly intact and my tiresome vetting of others has proved to be hassling. I still enjoy seeking the next thrill, of course. It certainly helps with the recovery. I tell myself I have to move onto the next thing. Something or someone better, worth my time. If I do not, my hope and positivity gets blown away like dust in the wind. Company helps, sometimes it doesn’t. Evidently, I’ve grown accustomed to this pattern.

One thing that I wonder about is how I will look back. Should I be wary of a problem grabbing hold of my ankles like a sea monster? I’ve gotten myself into some sticky shit.

Now, back to reading.