Saturday

Because laughter isn't only the best medicine, it is also the best disguise

I put away the guitar for awhile, although my fingers constantly wish for them. I start having freak-outs again, and I have to count inside my head for a while or hum something soft just to let it pass. I have refrained myself from writing, too, because writing makes me think, and I do not want to think, though my mind just wouldn't work that way. It will be okay, I promise. And I repeat the stupid words to let it sink. Gotta figure out what to do.

1 comment:

It feels like my heart has been bewitched by you and is keeping track of time on it's own.