I’m too anxious to sleep. I’m too tired to function. For the first time in forever I have the apartment to myself and I love the silence. I want to write, to put into words the conflict in my chest. But that would be like trying to jot down the grandness of the alps. I don’t have the energy for that. I haven’t eaten all day, I should probably do that. But I don’t to eat…. I feel as though I am the wick on the end of a cannon, lit and burning. But I am stuck in those moments before the flame reaches the gunpowder but after the wick has been lit. 

So much pent up energy, so much utter exhaustion, so much conflict. 

Thus is life sometimes. But it is ok, because life is beautiful, even in the moments you utterly hate. 

Tomorrow, I shall climb some more rocks!