In a future age.
It is like I went to sleep on the first of the month, only to find myself waking up on the thirtieth; the world is still spinning madly, threatening to toss me off like a broken rag doll, and I feel disoriented: out of place, out of sight, out of mind.
Obviously, I had not paused to smell the roses. Instead, I must have subconsciously chosen to bulldoze my way through and leave behind a trail of scattered, irretrievable memories in my haste. And that I am not happy with, for certainly there has got to be more to life than this.
And so, one question that featured prominently on my mind for the whole of today was this:
Where the hell did June go?