maybe i should just sell everything i own, buy a one way ticket to somewhereorother, and never return.
get a job in a little café, enough to live off, and spend the rest of my free time writing on a beach, that’s peaceful.
or find some adventurous dangerous man on my travels, on some Bonnie and Clyde shit and spend our lives on the run with a trunkful of cash.
but i spend too much time fantasising apparently, i wouldn’t say it was time wasted though..
although the time i spend daydreaming of things that could happen in my life, i could be working towards these things and making decisions.
maybe i will, maybe i will not. at least i’m willing?
either way, it could happen.. it will.. or,
plot twist: i’m in a euphoric mood.
i don’t know.
i don’t even know what i don’t know anymore i just know that i don’t know and if i ever will know and do i even want to know?
i’m just floating in the grey.
anyway, do not make decisions at 4am when you’re sad.