myriad of secret thoughts

Sleepless night. Too much caffeine. I keep coming back to this screen with thoughts coming out like a tangled mess. Whatever it is I’ll find out here as I type. Hopefully. Doesn’t really matter either way. Dropped by at Starbucks on the way home, savoured a lovely Sumatra black coffee, a sinful blueberry cheesecake, and a relaxed, girlie conversation with Indie.
Deserved it.
I'm single and happy, and waiting. For things to happen. Doesn't make sense really, when things should really be sought for instead of waited for. I'm thinking too much. The very fact that i'm here in this ungodly hour when i could be having some decent sleep or doing my research indicates something's up. Life is not perfect and i love it, i love the way every comfort as simple as coffee can become precious in stark comparison to every pain as complicated as emptiness. As simple as a phonecall in comparison to confusion. As simple as writing in comparison to crying. As simple as girlie conversations in comparison to legal jargons. Everything has new life breathed into it and fresh pain closely following, everything a perfect balance of imperfection.
This is what life should be, throwing shit at you for you to evade the next pile of shit.