Torment proceeds as boredom is the preemptive to I don’t know what I’m doing with myself. More of a mystery than abyss dismal id pin it as.

Something to dawn on after I’ve figured it out. And something to treat as special. I’ve been working at it so long and only slowly proceeded to normal behaviors to break storms and windows are the veins of my heart. Watching clouds always even with the curtains shut.

And I’ve had no one to feel wronged towards and just proceed handsomely towards bliss of some sort. Whenever I get there again.