for want of sleeping on the outside.

I've been somewhat afraid to write really. The conscious reminder to be restrained bugs me. Then again, I've always had abit of an issue with authority. Not that I like being an anarchist, although there perhaps is an innate insidious thrill of being a rebel. No, it's more to do with the fact that I'm often opiniated, and tend to challenge the norm. Which may explain the current tendency to dream about leaving this path and learning to be a chef and opening a cafe in the near future.

It's difficult really, because there used to be so much therapy in this.

It has been a long day. A long, heavy day. And I wish I could unwind in a fashion I've grown comfortable with. Something along the lines of a warm bed, a familiar scent, r.kub, and the gradual lull to sleep. I miss that.

And these daunting emotions threaten to carry me off to somewhere altogether too close to home, and I'm almost tempted to run along, being the half-empty jake that I am. And it's hard not to, when the silence grows damp and echoes in the clatter of the keyboard. But I promised, and the words I sometimes forget seep in a little, and I hold on to these threads like there's no tomorrow.

If anything, you should know that I won't give up till it works.

. arigato .