My hands are numb from holding on to the thin rope of the past. I know I should let go and fall back into the hugeness of the present, but it's hard to let go when your thumbs have grown into the rope intertwining and becoming one with this small string. The hugeness of the present feels like an abyss of foreign things that know me, and my hands seem to know them. I'v tried to put it into words so many times, but I fail. I fail at a lot, I should stop trying.
I'm scared to think about the future too. I hate how some people have it all worked out plotted and planed for a life they think they will live. I'm scared I'm ruining my life by not going into something conventional. I might end up doing something conventional. I don't know. I might be poor. Really poor. I might end up a Dickens child, except I'll be an adult, but no one will know because i'm so short and my voice is so high.
Maybe I need an activity to take my mind off the future (and the past). I could take up knitting, and be really really good at it. I could be a knitting queen, and make ticky takcies.
Just saying I could be really good at it, that is if I ever learned.
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