Sometimes I catch myself thinking; but they're all just numbers on the screen. Then I realise that was the old me and wake up to my situation. Sure, living on borrowed time is nice while it lasts, but sooner or later the world catches you up and demands from you what you cannot give*.

The warning came many months ago when flittering away stores on whims came all too easy, so when the prophecy had fulfilled it's self, like you all knew it would, I find myself perched between the hypocritical and the world I used to know.

Somehow I always knew I wasn't ready to face the world [on my own], simple logic tells you if the loneliness birds circle whilst being surrounded by friends why would things be better when you are alone by definition?

More than anything though, is the waiting game now being played, the apprehension of finding more of those accusatory envelopes of judging nature. Resignation to the fact, what's done is done, the blame resting solely here, and the promise of non-repetition waiting to be broken.


H.


*or want to give