not philosophical in any way.

the broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
maybe it can't stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
and i am here still waiting, though i still have my doubts
i am damaged at best, like you've already figured out

I have the apartment to myself this weekend. I thought it was going to be the best thing, having it to myself to clean while i dance and sing to my music in my pajamas, so I can watch the tv I want without even worrying about bothering anyone else... and I'm so happy that I have my own space for the first time in several months, but at the same time I've been on the phone with people living 3000 miles from me all day, or trying to get in contact with them. I find meaning in my life by talking to the people who actually care about me. Fuck this sentimentality, I feel weak.

Someday I'll look back on this and laugh. Someday I'll look back and wonder what was wrong with me and why being this age is so hard. Why is it such a trying age? Maybe because for the first time you start to realize that the choices you make really truly matter. You start to pay attention to shit that really matters and actually affects your life. Maybe not your life personally, but your life in the way that you live it.

anyway, i'm tired and i need to stop rambling to myself, since i'm probably the only one that gives a poop about this.



cheers,
kate