It has always been this way here……. Dunno what I wanna talk about. Something …… something has been bugging me. I think it was the smell the other day it reminded me of something… I can’t really put my finger on it. Something sad.
Five years have passed since then. Life has changed a lot so have I. I can’t recognize myself. Can’t let go can I. was never able to.
The room wasn't a mess but you can’t call it clean either. The table was a mess, newspaper everywhere, handouts that have no purpose anymore. Chocolates, biscuits and something else. They are everywhere, I can smell them. Music in the background…. My kind of music.
For someone who is obsessed about himself it’s impossible to write about anyone else other then himself. I don’t have an imaginative mind; I have heard that before, when I was in school. Why do I always write in first person terms? I need to stop doing that.
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