"How do you grit through an unpleasant phase? Perhaps, by having something pleasant to look forward to, by the end of the phase. What if there's nothing to look forward to? Hey, I am arriving at making the 'nonexistence of anything to look forward to' as the adaptable idea. I mean, to not look forward to anything; instead accept the reality for/with all its bleakness and come to grips with it."
What an abysmal line of thought that is? That's how my thought weave themselves into their web on afternoons. Thankfully, I have crafted a list of things I'd like to look forward to:
What an abysmal line of thought that is? That's how my thought weave themselves into their web on afternoons. Thankfully, I have crafted a list of things I'd like to look forward to:
- of wanting to be a novelist (not considering the dwindling possibility with each day passing by, supplemented with no effort from my end to do [actually begin] some serious writing).
- of making it to an open foyer in the downtown of any archaic city and wander around without a speck of care for time and trivialities.
This afternoon is too cruel; for it is not letting me doz off and dream of the things. But it is a touch merciful in allowing me to write about them at the least.
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