|
|
|
not that this means anything, but -------- Agh, what can I say? What can I say? Nothing. There's nothing to say. Fake it till you make it, as the saying goes. Running fits into this. You can't fucking get out of bed, so you sign up for some ridiculous race that you have to train ridiculously for. So you have to get out of bed. You're not getting out of bed because you're fine, you're getting out of bed because you have to. But you're getting out of bed. It's all a ruse but it works. All I can do is end with certain lyrics, yeah all Pearl Jam lyrics, that keep running through my head: One day the symptoms fade. Think I'll throw these pills away. // It's funny when things change so much, it's all state of mind.
|