I’ve watched the world turn with no impressions. Simple humble viewing to see it keeps going and see where I land, and found my only position is like some cruel dungeon master. I played too much Sims growing up. Story Mode for me. And I can only wonder where it all took me.

I had finally gotten rid of it. The timer, the clock down sequence, feeling like I’m running out of time everyday. And now it’s worse than over for few clumsy decisions but at least I tried.

Moral ambiguities; at least I tried.

And that’s when wonder starts to me. I don’t want it to disprove all the work I’ve done as a writer. Still my life’s work. I don’t want the world to seem so narrow or at this divide, type of feeling.

It’s all too cumbersome.

I tied up my hair, take it as work.