Waiting is my superpower... if my superpower was making inanimate objects really, really interesting. Like, I can spend a solid 15 minutes contemplating the architectural marvel that is a single ceiling tile in the DMV. The way the fluorescent light dances across its slightly-stained surface? Poetry in motion. I bet Shakespeare never had to wait in line for hours just to renew his chariot registration. If he had, we'd probably have sonnets dedicated to the existential dread of a faded number being called before yours. So yeah, waiting. I'm practically a zen master of forced patience, and my reward is a government-issued piece of paper and the distinct feeling that a small piece of my soul just withered away.
Today felt… different. The soundtrack to my imagined escape usually blared in my head, a glorious, cinematic score urging me onward was on mute.The familiar hum of running away, a fantasy I often indulged, simply didn’t surface. It wasn't bravery, not contentment, but something deeper settled in my bones. A certainty, beyond all logic, that my feet, no matter how far they wandered, would always, inevitably, bring me home.
Running is exhilarating, yes, but the returning… that's where the real work begins.
Side note: I have experienced the outside world now I shall return to my cave
Running is exhilarating, yes, but the returning… that's where the real work begins.
Side note: I have experienced the outside world now I shall return to my cave
I want to get a car just to drive it at full speed at night and crying with songs.
But I like bikes more
But I like bikes more
"You look like the main character of a horror movie that would die at the end."
The horror movie entitled: life
The horror movie entitled: life
My brain just be collecting defense mechanisms like infinity stones to stop me from feeling vulnerable like bro chill