Sometimes, things go wrong.

A mind-over-matter type of thing.

Sometimes, the fact that being your own sole enemy is a little bit tiresome.

To say the least.

Anyhow, nothing is definite. Fatality does not exist.

Unless you want it to be. But then, it's not really fatality anymore.

It's fucking laziness.




Rambling is cool.




People are strange.

They swarm around you like moths.

But some of them don't. A few.

And those are ironically the most precious of all.

Funny, funny thing.