when the air is still it all just floats off in no particular direction and eventually it's everywhere and i don't know how to get away because while it's thin it's still there and though i may not see it i know i'm surrounded and i just want to get away, get away, get away but all i see are walls

today i feel like you barged in and right out of me and before i know it you're a stranger once again and something that was there is once again nothing and i am just here perhaps slightly shaken thinking what the fuck? did that really happen?

i realise i think that a lot of the time, probably more than people generally do and more than i should, "what the fuck" it's like a state of disbelief i experience regarding so many things, i think what the fuck happened i think what the fuck is up with the system i think what the fuck is your deal i think what the fuck am i doing here.

maybe all these thoughts are the repercussions of all the silly ideals i had when i fantasised about the future like happiness would fall from the sky and fit perfectly in the palm of my hand when i caught it

when i look down at the keyboard dots appear between the keys, like one of those optical illusions that entertained me so much when i was younger

illusions don't just exist on paper or webpages, do they? anything you've yet to observe physically that you imagine as potential for reality can be an illusion. you see it, it does seem to exist in the haven of your mind, then you discover the hard way that that doesn't necessarily mean it's actually there.

naive, i was

"when you can't change your scenery maybe you should change your perspective"