hanging on

Sometimes I feel like travelling far, far away from here, just to be in this world a little more and be in my world a little less. I get so caught up in my own little mess that I forget my failures do not amount to anything really catastrophic to the world. The world probably couldn't care less about me, and maybe that's what I need sometimes, an inconsequential existence. To truly not matter, no matter what I do. Usually when I get to this point in my internal dialogue, I'd punish myself for being irresponsible. But this is not being irresponsible; it's keeping myself sane. Which does matter because this world and everything in it is too fucking beautiful to let go of. I want to stay in it, and be in my world a little less.