Tuesday. I don't know if I can still be someone for somebody again. I want to run and dissolve into nothingness. Fade from head to toe, soul to heart, heart and soul. Every part of my body will turn into dirt instead of gold glitters (like the way I used to imagine it would be). Everything I've done will be deleted, not recorded as part of somebody's history, not even remembered as false friends tried telling me -- you will, always and forever! Nothing will stay the same. Nothing stays the same. Nothing.
Uneasy.
