The best thing though, in that museum, was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody’d move. You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still just be finished catching those two fish, and the birds would still be on their way south. Nobody’d be different. The only thing that would be different would be you. Not that you’d be so much older or anything. You’d just be different, that’s all. You’d have an overcoat on this time. Or you’d heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. You would be different in someway, I can’t explain what I mean. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d feel like it.
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Don't like the aching feeling. Just makes me wanna disparage life. I hope the new year never comes. I am not looking forward to it. Not one bit. Not even a bite-sized bit.
I hope one day wishes come true. HAHA what a stupid thing to hope for.
Goodnight, this is an angsty post and i don't feel like talking on this space anymore. Oh how we need someone to cling on to in this world.
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