crying ’cause i just found photos of my late grandmother, taken about 2 months before she passed away.
haven’t the strength or focus to update ang.dx as promised.. i’ve noticed that a bit lately, a lack of focus mainly.. or perhaps its more a reluctance to analyze myself as much.. or maybe i’m still analysing, just can’t form it into words that would make much sense to anyone but me.
the cat’s out, massive attack acting as filler noise, trying to stop myself going back to where i was today. horrible, ugly places, filled with memories and bad dreams. it all comes back to haunt for no particular reason, reminded by careless conversations. realizing my behavioural pattern: when it’s stormy inside, retreat, hide as much as you can, and when someone notices there’s something amiss, hint, let them guess, then say “its just.. we all have stuff to deal with”. mysterious creature. can’t let them in too far. odd feeling when you’re conscious of how much you don’t trust someone who’s trying to be trusted.