revolver

Pretending to be oblivious seems to work at times. It was a great week, not enough to fall in love with the memory, but enough to top the last half year.

It's two in the morning, and I am suddenly gripped in a bug embrace, telling myself everything is all okay. I need to trample on my conscious thoughts, perhaps ease off a little. A sanguine disposition won't hurt a bit, unless everything turns out wrong. I have the night to contemplate.

I am terrfied.

I should get used to it by now, but i'm not. Who would? I could let my spirit dance in the shadows just a little longer, but that's not how I work. Immaturity at this point won't help. Immaturity in my life would not help me, there was no room for it, ever.

I envy people who get grounded for being reckless. I know I already have been, a long time ago, and truthfully, it hurts more than I can describe. Nobody needed to ground me. I knew the consequences.

Consequences - how much do I really know?
Throw me a lifeline, you're blocking out all the signs.