sexta-feira, 23 de julho de 2010

Everything's fucked up

I keep telling myself I should make the right move; that I should overthing about it all. But I can't help feeling guilty about it; about planning every step. As if things could only be real if they flowed like a river.
However, the worst of it may not even be this guilt; is may be the uselessness of this whole planning. For the steps exist only in my head; they are there because I imagine so.
What happens then if I don't share these thoughts? Things will come and go - I'll built an epic out of it - and the world will just remain the same. How silly of me, really.

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