but, on the bright side, it feels good to be moving back in time, to becoming yourself again, slowly slowly.

the irony is, even when you reach your-older-self (technically, your-earlier-self), you are just more passionate to go further back; and you can't remember exactly when this going back should stop. you just know you need to be yourself again, in the past.

but i don't care. at least at this moment, i don't fuckin' care. i remember the misery i went through last year. last year, it shattered me. from everything to anything and anything to everything, it was a disaster.

this year, stupidly enough, i am building defense bunkers and making quiet spaces and distances, because, i am chemically balanced, yet mentally imbalanced. and that surely seems like the destination.