i realise...

... that although i am shooting for the moon i am aimless.

my hopes and dreams float around me like a cloud, pregnant with ideas and ready to burst...
but yet... it shudders and closes in on itself...

my soul is suffering from a draught. there's nothing for it to look forward too... only expectations

i'm on the edge of my seat, bitting my nails, white-knuckling it down the highway of life but i'm only doing 30. i fear danger at every corner
i'm tense. i can feel it... tension creeping down the back of my neck into my shoulders...
the adrenaline racing just beneath the surface, at any second ready to explode and rocket down the street in a fit of passion and rage.

but i've lost my passion... lost my rage... my anger. when emotions are heightened so are the colours, it's the vibrancy i miss

i'm lackluster.
i feel average...
and that's the scariest part of all

*update*: i knew this day was too f*cking good to be true... it started with the power going out at 8 but then when my victoria's secret order showed up in record time (like three days man, for reals that's like awesome) and i was called *finally* about a part time job... i realised that the really nice brown stretchy gaucho's with green stripes that br's parents got me for christmas are totally f*cked. i must have leaned against my muffler when i got of roscoe this morning and the heat from the f-ing metal melted through the material... now there's this giant hole in *the front of the leg*... *SOB*