finding something

The hardest part about a higher education, isn't the work, or the expense, or the mental strain. It's the isolation. The fact I can't go out, because I have to come here and work. I miss my laptop... the ability to go where I want and work. and not be so distracted, and alone.

I can feel things slipping. Nothing, truly, is wrong, but my head isn't there. not enough. There's too many other things going on, flitting in and out of my head like birds. My time becomes precious, my money not so much. Every ounce of energy is spent, for marks, fun, and profit, and there's nothing left for love. I can't remember the last time I went grocery shopping or cooked a meal.

The self splinters, every piece getting more and more transparent as they become smaller, the light filtering through the holes, the girl you loved, far away.