Crustaceans are Halal as Long as They're in The Jungle

[kiramori]

Craving something you don't like is the paragon of mediocrity.

I'm so stuck between yearning and finding meaning in the little things that I do that sometimes I forget how to look forward, how to derive importance from the simple act of existing, how to treat and greet someone memorable to me.

Sometimes my troubles feel abstract even to myself, I can't compose a rhyme about the aches of my beating heart without falling victim to my own shortcomings once again. It's troubling, but somehow it feels oddly familliar.

So I try my best and I rise like a zombie from my bed everyday trying again and again to fall into the loop that keeps me awake so I don't dare to sleep on the job once more.

The forest feels endless and this hike is taking forever. I now see the last chamber already, and there in the corner stands the trap that I must run into, because someone told me my works remind them of Kafka and good luck beating that compliment.

My dreams are starting to feel opaque and  seamless, just as I was starting to fall on the gaps to find the wrongs in every right I make, now it's homogenous and weird, feeling this alien darkness snatching my book of ideas every time I try opening it up it's weird.

I like to chew on ice when I feel confused, but spending time with friends does a better job of soothing a turbulent mind.

My lungs feel weak.

Did you know that an inverted Delta is called a Nabla?