Like an idiot, I think about the future. Anyone could tell you that it isn't worth it to live in the future, unstable as it is. The truth is, I find comfort in the instability. And that is why I live in there, sitting upon my throne of my foresight of my hindsight.
Will I find these words I write deeply unsettling? You might think this is fucking Shakespeare, the way that I ruminate and re-read these entries, but I doubt that the ghost of me would find any of this amusing. Maybe I'll delete this at some point, and these words will forever be lost in the Internet vortex, some untouched corner of my Google Drive. You think you can predict my fall from grace?
You can't, but I can. See, from my pedestal, all avenues of possibility are open. You might call it anxiety, but I call it foresight. I know what I am doomed to achieve, and you can't tell me otherwise. The stability is strengthened by my incapacity to change, and I am on this course of self-constructed destruction.
ΔΙΑΒΑΖΕΙΣ
Musings and Tidbits
ΤυχαίοSome writing prompts/random stories (one-shot) that come to me and I feel like sharing :)
