Another bottle in the sea.

And the day passes, and the future moves. Fast cars and dyed hair can’t pull me away from this isolation.

The choices that I had all but disappeared – today was the perpetuation of choices made before. I could not alter my path. I wandered into verdant fields and sunny days in my mind, while the steps I took ate up concrete sidewalk with no chance of turning back. It would seem my chosen path is delayed again, causing me to lose my waning focus. People say that you don’t always need to restrict yourself to the sidewalk, there are other ways of getting where you’re going, less traveled paths, but certain responsibilities bind me to this fate. Contracts signed in ink and words alike.

A strange array of worlds has been shown to me lately. Some new and daunting, some old but solid, but I’m still shopping. I haven’t found one I like yet, maybe they’ll grow on me, but I don’t see myself a Californian club kid for a few years yet.

The colors are bleeding, the ink poorly printed on this world. It was nice to see grayscale but there must exist something real beyond apathy, something that lasts that doesn’t scar, or maybe I just need to learn to trade pain for pleasure, to reset the balances more frequently.