There are days when I'm okay, then there are days when I'm better. And every once in a while, there's a slow, lazy Saturday that refuses to go by soon enough. I make sure I'm always occupied on Saturdays - eating out, writing, reading something calm. But then gradually the day passes and as the dusk follows, it brings the moon along. Full moons are the worst, when the earth's stalker is predominant in all it's beauty. It's difficult to ignore it even when I know I really, really should. Because looking at the moon makes me feel like you're here, and that's dangerous territory. I want you to be here, all the time, we both know that I do - but we choose to deny it because it's convenient, it makes life easier. Well, Saturdays are hard, but Sundays are worse.
A fresh start at writing. Yes, again! Thanks to my procrastinating skills. Although, I am sure, this will be more spontaneous than my last effort, considering I scribble a lot these days. Comparatively! :P