I meant to type, "Time just keeps slipping through my fingers."
Freudian slip?
I don't think so--I mean, most of the time, I don't feel like I'm letting life slip away from me.
Maybe I'm just in a melancholic mood. Let go, one little bit at a time. One day at a time. It's the last...
This has been a series of "lasts" for the past month.
They've been hanging over my head for three months.
You'd think I'd be used to the idea by now, but as it gets more and more imminent, I like it less and less.
infinite || abyss