Feels like it was only yesterday when I was writing about imagining a 21st birthday – but it’s already 3rd March 2016: I have nothing planned, no directions, no motivation, nil of emotions, and somewhat of a dread.
Strange – I usually look forward to heading out/spending time with the family and the cake cutting on my birthday, but not this year.
All my mind registers is of panic, irrational fear, restlessness and dissatisfaction.
What is it that I want for growing old: I honestly don’t know, because the things that I desire can’t be bought/are difficult to acquire/is probably too much of a demand to request for.
To run away, to fly away, seek solitude; yet they are miles too unattainable from now, from here.