I looked at it. Perhaps even, the cake stared back at me. Lost in some void to remind me of many birthdays in a single scan. Riding high, and I got my cake somehow. A delicious bounty and I strolled back to no man’s land. I would not be the first to cut the cake.
The little socializing I encouraged myself to engage in today and I manage to share the notes of the blues and an ancy fueled lack of endeavours. I don’t know what to do today. Simply put.
I ate this delicious and steadfast nutritious meal and walked back to my bed as if every blink on the way would cost me hours.
A flare up here, an episode there, and I fell asleep.
In the sense of my leap-frog journey, I’ve realized a nap is the worst mode of travel.
Now the next question; pierce the yellow balloons, break off a corner, or play the long game and wait for my little-frosting-center-cut of cake?
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