life seems to be in fast forward again. Things have been changing for a while now but now we seem to be back to the fast past routine that goes, week, weekend. I know everyday is different but it feels like thats all life is a the moment. Someone hit the pause button just for a second cause I need to catch my breath. While I'm getting lost in my life's plot everyone else seems to be doing better than me, like I'm a chapter behind, which I currently am in english, more than a chapter.
Sometimes I look around and wonder what I'm doing, like I'm out of place and all this wrong. Sometimes I wonder how I got this life, why I am who I am but then I smile at the cinema tickets on my wall or at an old book I read years ago. These things seems to be the fabric of my existence cause I know it's what makes me up.
I remember the reason I started writing, not the one I tell people now, it was because I was asked what I wanted to be, and I thought and said a writer. That was it, I hadn't wrote a word before that but when I was asked and I answered I new what I said was actually true. But now I realise that it's true because i've always had stories in my head. I would sit and daydream about superheroes in primary school, I spent most of maths today imagining what would happen if there was a zombie outbreak at the school and who i'd be whiling to kill. And I could link everything from my book to something i've once daydreamed about. Which is now at 41,720 words by the way.
Life seems to be in motion. Not just from event to event but the way we think. I go from subject to subject without think and pour it all into this when I can. If life wasn't in motion we'd all be soulless.
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