I still think of you, but not as much as I would have wanted to, I think, because of the coffee shop. And not just the coffee shop, but my music, my notes and compositions. All of what makes me.
But even so, I find myself happy when I don't think of you as much again, but I am always reminded that I always go through the same cycle or remembering and forgetting you.
Tomorrow, I have a presentation at the museum. The seven seasons by Vivin. I've already practiced. Over and over again. I try my best, but I've come to the moment where even that might not make the cut. I don't know what to do anymore. Although I'm not stressed, I feel ready for the presentation, but I'm scared that I'm not. I can no longer tell whether I'm ready for something or not. Feelings became… as they are… subjective.
And my whole self has always been subjective, my mind, my words, my compositions, my thoughts, my actions.
I can no longer do that. I need to stay objective. But I don't know how.
I really do try my best. But that's not enough. I study and I fail. I learn and I forget.
Can I change or will I stay the same?
…
I can't give up.
But I'm scared at some point I will.
…
Only time will either destroy me or change me completely.
And I don't want either of them.