And this week has ended. A week of complex insanity.

I think I’ve fully grown into myself— no longer running any doubles.

I still feel a little troubled— the kind of indescribable aftertaste, however. I do not think it will go away and I’m not that bothered with it. And if it does, its the day where my fingerprint goes.

And nowadays, other than some people whom I talk to sometime or other, I don’t feel like I really exist in this (vault?). Like an inanimate object without an owner, without a use— reminds me of my lost mp3. I’m going to save up and get another one.

Did I tell you that I hoped that if someone does pick it up and takes it, s/he will listen to the songs and actually like them and think of its owner?

And today, I was there— totally wasted my time on those useless objects, objects which I was supposed to belong to. I abhor them, because they don’t know, because they’re so different from me.

Because so many of them are so different that I need to compromise.

And I like or even love my life nowadays— so many random people and things which I don’t even care for. And no one knows.