It's something out of my control.

Late at night, I become phylosophical, poetic and find new meanings of 'deep'.
A few days ago, wrote the following.
Was wondering what other's thought.
I'm considering using it as the foundations for a speech I have to do in English. The topic being whatever we do so choose it to be. (I loathe these kinds of speeches.. I rarely think of an interesting topic.)
Be as brutally honest as possible.
I can take it.
Just the way I can take water fasting til dinner tomorrow.
It's going to happen.
Anyway...


When I was younger, the red and cream analog clock on my wall would only assist my already energetic mind in keeping me from any form of slumber. Yet now, the simple tick-tock rhythm revived from deep within my stores of childish memories bring comfort in knowing that even the simplest of problems can be overcome. Then, it was the relocation of the bedroom clock to the linen cupboard down the hall. Now, that oh-so familiar one-two beat has transformed from a display on the wall to an ornament of organisation, time management and style worn around one's neck upon a chain. That being said, can time really be managed? It's a constant... as unconditional and unstoppable as the rotation of the Earth around its very own axis.

Pssh, yeah that's it.
Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast. Tomorrow is a fast.

Damn right it is, fatass.


oh dear..
more talking to myself
Did someone say insane?