going swimmingly

I am fine, just fine; breaststroking.

Well, isn't that what they teach kids to do? I mean when you're stuck in a rip. Apparently it's the most energy-efficient stroke. But you're still fighting it, you know.

I am thoughtful and thought-full; I am tired of feeling ashamed for having interests; I am boredboredbored; I am sick of avoiding things that are just a tad hard but feeling too guilty to do any of the things I actually want to do.

I feel like the cones in my eyes are degenerating because occasionally one eye sees everything with a red tinge and the other with blue. So it's like watching your life like it's a 3D movie, which I find pretty ironic.

I am afraid that I have been caught up in this current and I'm being reeled out along a path that I'm not sure I want but I can't remember what I wanted and I'm kind of fighting it? But not really?

Just breastroking, you know.

I swam into it.