Eye on the clock. I didn't take my medicine. Deep breath. Music. Breathe.
I keep going, despite what they say; all the negativity, all the persistence to keep me out of my comfort zone. Bones are sore. Too tired to think about it.
I laugh. Because I can't remember where I started. All I have is this feeling. These feelings. I'm always left with them. I keep it alive. It's a part of me that I feed.
The drawings are so profound. I love looking at them. They make me happy, even if I don't think I've drawn as well as I could. They are definitions. They are moments in time. They are my memories and my dreams. I'll never let go of them. Hopefully, even if I forget, they'll always be important to me.
Can't shake the feeling that parts of me are missing. Where the holes have been filled there is a lingering sense of emptiness. That must just be a part of being human, or maybe it's just a part of being me.