i reckon.

when you smell the coffee, the sweet smell of it, it's time to

1)get up
2)pack your bags
3)and go.

packing used to be fun. maybe it was because i had lots to throw the last time. there are things i want to take with me this time around, as i seek refuge in the sanctuary.

now finding the sanctuary is another problem altogether. war is never fun. it's something we're living in, so yeah, living with it. problem is when you're stuck deep in enemy territory and you just want to retreat. to go home. easy you say? well, not so for a pawn. a pawn goes forward only. there's no retreat and regroup. you just move. hm. stuck in enemy territory? no choice then. get my sword and shield, pack up, and move on. theoretically possible, but first, i need to grow.

my problem: i wake up one morning to find that the enemy surrounds my tent. i look through my backpack, rummaging through to find the superman suit, thinking i could burst out like.. well.. superman, and eye power them till they're fried. ha. (can you imagine if we were battling in kentucky? that'll make it kfc. kentucky fried company. heh.) so i look through, and find a rusty sword and some cacat-ed shield. go figure. the fella out there is clearly superior. i'm... dead?

now, luckily for me, someone made coffee that same early morning, an hour before the enemy moves in. i sniff it, knowing that i have to move. take what i can, and leave.

currently: i've packed up, and running back. it's funny. i'm a pawn and i'm running back. then again, no, i'm not running home. i'm finding refuge. solace. a hiding place. i look back as i sprint my butt off, and i realise that i've been flirting with the enemy for far too long. far too long. i'm running.

thank you to that person who made that cuppa for me. though i never drank off it, it did more than that for me. and now i'm running. thank you.


running.


that's what i'm doing. i'm leaving. tata!




plan 1, plan 2, plan 3... plan 51262340792, plan 51262340793. i'm one of them.