I sit in the balcony wrapped into a huge blanket with a cinnamon and orange instant coffe and my diary in my hands. I use a 0.5 pen. It's the most important... I only enjoy my journaling if the sensory conditions meet.
I wanted to play on my nintendo, but instead I'm just sitting, staring into the far away without looking. It feels good to let my thoughts ramble with no restrictions.
I'm thinking about him. I have to organize these thoughts and put them into the right places. This obsession starts to overgrow normality? I embrace every bit of information coming from him. But I want to understand myself at once.
I sit in the balcony wrapped into a huge blanket with a cinnamon and orange instant coffe and my diary in my hands. I use a 0.5 pen. It's the most important... I only enjoy my journaling if the sensory conditions meet. 