I feel like I'm at this point of life where anything can basically happen, but at the same time, nothing really makes sense. Existentialism at its finest.
I'm choking from incense smoke but I gotta deal with it, I love the burning, fragrant smell too much.
I think about the workouts I've missed. I'm gonna do an hour later and break my body.
Nothing really makes sense right now. I haven't written anything valuable lately. It's a little lonely here right now and I'm just looking forward to getting high and listening to my playlist.