Maple Syrup

I feel just like my faded jeans too, miss genius. Feeling good is easy when you sing the blues. And feeling good is good enough for me.

I reread some of my older posts, and I was just a more interesting person back then. My life had more dynamic, involved more people, less secrets. I was weirder, even though I felt as bland as oatmeal. I wonder if I'm gradually becoming less and less of who I want to be. That would be so suckish. If this is growing up, I change my mind. I want immortality after all, sorry for throwing it away when I had the chance. I want it now.

I am going to the shower, as it is midnight, and I'm as tired as a wheat thin. A week of busyness follows, and I know I can handle it all, but I realized it's not the question of whether I can get ages of studying and writing done, but whether I can make sure that this, although busy, is a week not wasted. A week where I can stand at the end and look back, and know that it was a time good enough to be my last.

If there is one invention that humans have created, that I wish could be abolished, it would be stress. No other species has it, only humans, and I believe that is our greatest downfall.

But it's midnight, and I'm rambling. Lets save the phil talk for later.

Just shower, meds and sleep for me tonight.