There is no measurement of time. Days feel like years. Weeks feel like days. Months feel like seconds. Seconds feel like forever.
We're stuck in a loop, so we should measure life by love, by pain, and by growth. (but mostly love, it's the best part about being a person.)

I want to know what you're thinking.
This is to you.
Your unknown eyes that are crossing each curve of these digital letters.

I wonder what I want to be doing. All I can think of right now is traveling. I keep discovering when I do, I never want to stop. But school is stressing me out so much. I feel like my path is getting clouded and I'm starting to choke on the humidity.
shit.

There are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it’s too late
and there’s nothing worse
than
too late.

Oh Yes by Charles Bukowski