suddenly I'm reminded of how fast time seems to move; seeing it rush by ungraciously, unfalteringly, feeling it slip through my fingers.
just a common counterfeit yeah.
sunday's over, it's gone. and with it comes realisations that I don't want to realise.
things change and shift blindingly quick, like the way I must parry those doubts.
and in the midst of it all I recognise I don't want to.
15 more weeks, and almost no one left. when the dust settles, the only person who hasn't somehow wriggled out will crumble without a pillar. oddly I'm wishing it will pass, then I could go back to the state of faux-equilibrium before.
if only.