sometimes, i think i'm just bidding my time.
because i know there is more ahead, and i'm just working steadily towards it.

ive come to realise that home is not a place, but a feeling. why else would i sometimes feel home is a hotel room whenever there are any weekend getaways?
i think it's a feeling that the place is mine, albeit temporary.

ive got lots of ideas about how my dream house would be.
and i shall live it.

ive got lots of scathing remarks to say to you. but i promised someone i wldnt blow it up.
but i'm going to be ( if i arent already ) going to be more successful than you.
and that isnt only in terms of material wise. you moan about not having genuine friends, and suddenly you lost one.

and you, i dont want to listen anymore. i would say more, but i promised another i wouldnt blow it up as well.

and you, it happened sometime back and i also promised i wouldnt blow it up. but i would really love to punch you in the face.

what a lot of promises i made.
and what an angsty person i am today.

but that, was therapeutic.