It's not a Windsday, Pooh.
In my first moment of peace, 26 minutes past my bedtime, I am nearly out of words.
I'm afraid. Not terrified to immobility, just afraid. While I am at work, it is physical, and here it is mental.
I make the worst decisions possible, most of the time.
I am letting my desire to be promoted talk me out of pink hair.
I probably shouldn't be trusted. My morals are questionable, at best.
I fight, all day. I come home, and it's a new battle. Always a new battle, mostly against myself. I'm going to lay down my weapons for a moment, just to see what happens.
05.08.13 || 8:25 pm
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