Not sure what’s happening, but I want it to happen faster.
Maybe it’s a life of mania that’s made me hunger for the high points. Maybe it’s the depression. Regardless, it’s not happening fast enough, and I need things to happen faster, and I want things to happen faster, and have I mentioned faster? Life needs to speed up.
And then, no. I want to savor every moment of the delicious anticipation. The feeling where I can count down all the moments, and relive the moments that happened, and long for more moments, and can I have another moment?
The butterflies in the stomach. The unfocused vision. The remembered sounds. The lack of sounds because there is only sensation.