March 27th.

Nearly Nothing.

Listening to: Another Year: A Short History of Almost Something.
Mood: Stale.
Chatting to: Bas.

I want my chest pressed to your chest.

Last night, I can't even describe what was going on in my mind. And if I were to try you'd end up with another confusing and cryptic blog entry that only I really understand and would be of no benefit to anyone.

All I know is this is hard. All of it.
And sometimes I don't know if I should continue.
Or just let myself fade. Be enveloped by air and nothingness and clouds.
Hmm. A Strawberry Cloud, maybe.
Here I go being cryptic again.

But the thing is, could I really just come out and say it?
That I want this thing and I hate that thing and I really, really miss this thing?
(Thing thing thing thing)

Probably not.
I'd get yelled at.
And left.