sometimes it seems like alot of time is at hand.
sometimes, it feels quite in surplus.
until i realised my end, my end.
i dont mind an end, until i realised the things i needed to accomplish.
things, things on my mind.
i dont know how long has it been since i worked towards goals.
so much so that it feels uncomfortable, irritating.
such pressure, such pains.
like a child that cringes at the sight of veggie, i cry at the work i must finish.
Labels: memory
