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- "Move here" I said. I did. I sat on top of the furnace thinking. The sad eyes, on more than one occasion - nothing came out of his mouth, but on more than one occasion there was that look, that look, like, please, come on, you know me, talk to me. What can I do, though? I can't put words into his mouth, he has to do that himself. And if he won't, what am I supposed to do, other than procrastinate and daydream and write idiotic shit? But today I will sit back and be pleased with myself because I did say "move here". I will let that sink in for a while and right now I'm going to pretend that everything will eventually work out the way I know it should. Right now I will finish this goddamn overprocrastinated paper and I'll get to work on my other shit. If things are going to work out the way I know they should, I need to get things taken care of and get ready for it all, I need to be okay with myself and everything if I'm ever going to be okay with anything. I will be "training". I went to the meeting about the marathon last night. I will be "training". I will be working out, working my core. Among other things. Fucking running through the fucking springtime. I've skipped through winter, I've finished it. There is no time to waste on moping anymore. God, I swear I'm not delusional. Right now I swear I'm not delusional. Move here. Move here!
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