one two three four,
get out get out get out get out.
five six seven eight,
fuck off fuck off fuck off fuck off.
& that sounds well kinda, bimbo.
eeyer.

i woke up this morning with a very simple minimalistic need.
& i realised that i just can't seem to shrug off that need.
i'll attribute each one to you,
take it as my tribute to the past.

it's always so much easier to talk big.
putting words into action is the killing part.
i've been procastinating for so long,
yet i haven't even begun with anything.
i took that one tiny step a long time ago,
but before long, i retraced that step.

from 10-100.
that's a pretty big leap,
& i reckon i'm somewhere near the beginning,
but you see, i want to reach that 100 mark.
& yet, i want to stop.
i wonder how long it'll take me.
but give me till the end of this month,
& i'll aim to hit the middle.

it'll drip & stain my tiles.
10:49 AM
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