Minutes, hours, miles, me.

It is not August anymore, it is not summer anymore. It was not the summer I know. It was only a glimpse, a catch, just a snapped moment. I did not really have a summer this year. All my fault, I confess. I am not sure I will have one, it just cannot be the same. With every each passing year, nothing seems to be the same. And I have this bad habit of disliking change, cause why would I want to change something, which was and felt good? Why would I want to stop listening to Brand New when I feel like a line from their lyrics, just like this at this moment? Maybe this is all I can be sometimes- a line of emotions with no end and no beginning.

Truth to be said, I am not sure how long I can maintain this charade of me trying not to care, not to be bothered by anything and anyone. It is all a facade, but a pointless one. A day, a week and another few? How long would it take to fix things unless they are beyond repair? In that case, it is just like watching myself from aside. Even the words seem useless, probably they are quite useless. Why would I need them, what good they can do to me? What good anything would do at this point? Please ignore the question marks at the end of the last sentence, it was not supposed to be really there, probably just like this whole little text was not supposed to be here, and I can also think of other few things.

...
'Every minute is a mile, I have never felt so hallow'.