k

Really? We’re back to this again? Really?

I don’t want to be stuck with a diagnosis as a result of my own personal introspections.

But this is fucking bullshit.

—–

I walked away and came back.

The piano is a very theraputic instrument.

Fingers hit keys with cold precision, and just like that, we’re back to cold normalcy, with a pretty song to boot.

The wrists being sore as fuck afterwards are actually quite a nice side-effect. inb4 masochism, I just like knowing that I can still put forth enough effort into something to actually have a noticeable result. Not the most conventional, but hey the pain is bearable and I’m building endurance.

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