Speed of Sound

After what seemed like thirty minutes of tossing and turning in my lilac bed-spread covered bed, curled beneath my green-polka-dotty-stripey duvent, hugging my pillow and my bolster, my eyes lid were heavy, however so, my little mind did not seem to agree.

The gushing of the sounds outside, i switched my laptop on, with a small bag of Doritos.

I am a little hungry.

My tattoo is getting better. It flaked. I’m considering my second one soon. Real real soon.

Whilst at work, they were circulating emails around for Christmas – wow. Time flies. It’s mid-August now. Come September in two weeks. Those fateful months last year. Wow. Then, it’ll be autumn, and winter – Christmas and New Year and gone before I know it – it’ll probably be home time.

I am very much skeptical about my decision to pack and leave. Not only I am salivating over the money factor, also, I always seem to know that I will be back with him – I will somehow. It’s not a good thought for I am tying myself to something so unrealistic and probably that might never work out and say if I do see him come September, I will stay for him.

My predicament are almost always right. But I am heading no where. Still. I stop luring and dreaming about a big fat happy wedding – somehow I feel that I won’t get married anymore at all.

My life seem so surreal but I am just yet enough and contented.