Bigger Fish.
When Distractions take root, and disaster ensues…

I feel like shit man.
Although I can’t say why, seeing my space in disarray does the same to my soul & I’m tired of being sick; so painfully sick of saddening circumstances. Nothing’s moving, mountains won’t budge and moments slip away before I can appreciate them fully. The one thought that supersedes all is that I don’t want my feelings so closely aligned with the condition of my ‘things’ because all that tells me is I’ve no bigger concerns.
And I should. I should definitely have bigger concerns than that. Like planning my ‘independence budget’ for instance? Applying for jobs perhaps? Or even editing all the writing I’ve done over the last couple days?
I’ve a lot to get off my chest; a lot to deal with, and too few spare fucks to be giving a ‘loud house’, ‘lost earrings’ and a ‘messy bedroom’ so much attention.
I’m off this man.
