DETAILS, DETAILS.

Ehh.
Completely exhausted. Not just tired. Exhausted. I didn't know what the word meant until this year.
And why, do you ask?
Because.
What a difference I've seen within me this year. I don't think anyone else has noticed, or truly needs to, but I feel like an entirely separate being than that which I was last year. It's this odd, uncalculating existence that I'm not sure I'm entirely capable of handling.
Hmm.
Brevity has never been one of my strengths. I can be concise, yes, but hardly do I reach a point without numerous explanation and general rambling, as my style dictates. Yet, I feel like few words are required to convey this new status I've attained. I'm not sure there are even words that satisfy that which I'm feeling. And that's perfectly fine, as I'm in no rush to explain myself to anyone except myself.
God, how I long to be a quick thinker.
I can't imagine how to digress from what I've thought about in the past weeks. It's been one encompassing emotion after another, yet bountiful with instances hardly worth recounting. I know of a few things I wish I could speak about, I wish I could dream about, but they become so minor in comparison to the vitality that surrounds me.
I am a free floating form, independent of my own reality, and banished from the innerworkings of my own mind. Functionality appears hardly relevant. Nor does emotion. I sit above myself, below myself, in and out and wrapped around myself, camera fixed on the flicker of my eyelash and the wisp of hair that steals away.
I am the insignificant details that have finally begun to add up.