Through my fingers time seems to slip. No matter how I try to hold on it slips. I get older, things change, people come, and people go just as quickly or more so. In my hole hours blend into days, days into weeks, weeks so quickly becoming years. I lose track of the last time I've done something and yet remember its been a significant amount of time since I've done anything significant. Are my problems so easily dismissed by a vocation? That's what people think, that is what they tell you when you're lost. I see it more of a distraction from the problems that are still there when you clock out. What happened to the adventure? The exploration? It seems to still be there yet it seems so out of reach for the everyday man. Slipping through my fingers not time now but mental stability. Why do I feel this way? Why have I always felt this way? Why do you ask me questions you do not let me answer before you dismiss my words as wrong? Why can I not be allowed to be who I am? Why do you care? Why do you bother me? How is it of your concern. When I sit in my hole quietly, do you bother me there? Slipping everything is slipping and I'm starting not to care.



((I have no idea @_@ just happened))