Wither Away

So, my plans blew up in my face. I tried to find a metaphor to explain it sufficiently, but to be honest, I couldn't be more disappointed and less inclined to just not care.

This was my last thing. My last thing while I was here, and it was junked.
I guess it shows what level I was on people's radar.

Maybe they had a legitimate reason as to why it collapsed like a supernova. In a supernova.

Either way, it's hard not to feel shitty. I mean, the last event that I wanted to share with good friends, who I want to stay close with, was discarded. So it's hard not to feel discarded.

"Every plan is a tiny prayer to Father time."