Circles.

I am choked by the things I can write about.

How many messages have I aborted? I want to say I'm too good to put failures into words. Truth is, I can't even make a good number of sentences with what I know. It's not true there's at most just few to know. I just don't know what there is to know. That doesn't change anything at all. That doesn't strikethrough the loser label. That doesn't restart the days. Things don't need to be understood to exist. I don't need to prove anything here.

I don't know what to say. Because all this time, I've been resistant to anger. And that follows from being blinded to the most wrong of wrong things. And I don't know if that's wrong. But if it is, perhaps it can be right only when there's nothing wrong to be blinded to in the first place. Everything loses sense. There are no problems.

Where to go from here? Trying to find the point's too tiring I've lost sense of direction. Shoot. That's exactly the point.

I am not in position to tell anyone what to do. I don't even know what to say if I was. It's always easier to find what is wrong than to do something right. I do not know all and I never will. Stand up, boy. I just want to see your life dragged to the center.