tomorrow came so quickly.
i am hoping for the future to pull the rug out from under the presents weak feet. and watch it topple over itself in that sort of dumb confusion - where you know exactly what and why something is happening but try not to let it show.
and theres all the things. all the things you've picked up along the way. and in fear of missing something. or forgetting something, you've overpacked and now you're troubled by all that once delighted you. oh the weight you put in things. things so forgettable and fleeting. things asking for forgotteness. begging to be buried. imploring you to be put to rest.
but how else would you keep occupied? what would your mind do then? your heart? your spirit? your eyes? what then would you find? what clarity would appear? and how?
how would you know what to do next? or with whom? or how?
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