My mind is a file cabinet and I frantically search through every sheet, trying to connect the dots between my sadness and the surrounding circumstances, yet I keep coming up short. What is this feeling?
I want to get more comfortable with the tension. With the lack of definition. With the fact that magic and fear can co-exist in my little 10-year-old world, and magic and monotony can co-exist in my bigger 30-something-year-old-world.