Tuesday, October 13, 2009

the forty-sixth

If i'm sitting on the grass, i have an urge to play with it.
If there's a stick on the ground, i'll pick it up and write stuff in the dirt,
if there's bark, i'll use it to draw on the cement,
if there's a leaf, yeah... i'll pick it up and slowly rip it to tiny pieces.
It's a habit where i just have to touch things.

only recently have i become aware of this, as others who are near me or observing me have started to point out. my hands have to always be occupied with something, i fidget too much. i never sit still.
I'm also constantly cracking my knuckles, my hands are never still.
why do i always play with things? you know that kid who will sit on the cement and start playing with random stuff on the ground, or playing with dirt? yeah, i'm that person.
I don't do it cause i'm bored, because actually most of the time i'm having an awesome time with the people around me, so i have no clue why i resort to such lame things.

currently listening: magic - ladyhawke

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