sometimes, it takes a while for all this shit to sink in. i'm sitting here & the air is cool & crisp. & that's really all there is. & you are not here anymore. & they are not here anymore. the world isn't real anymore. & it's all right here. everything is right in front of me. everything i have. everything there is. there isn't anything you can or cannot conceive. & it's taking a while for all this to sink in.
there are no magical metamorphoses, no mystical transformations. all this life is in one straight line. from point a to point b. i was never a caterpiller & i will never be a moth or butterfly. there's a sense of evolution, of natural selection. seasons of change. some of my closest friends have compared me to a chameleon, but then i realized they weren't my closest friends. there will be no parade, no party, no formal celebration when this is all complete. there is a beginning & an end & nothing can stop either one of those anymore. everything between those two points is completley undefined. leaving the greatest burden of the human race in my own small hands. no metamorphosis. can't keep waiting for the apocalypse to come.
shedding exoskeletons aside, returning voicemails, & lying on the couch. there should really be more prolific female writers. where are they all hiding. why do i not have a voice loud enough. nothing will ever be enough to satisfy, otherwise you're just lazy. resigning to a life of good enough is perhaps the worst fate in the entire world. every moment is a dizzying tailspin into death. into the end. it's all right up to the last minute before the final credits. there's nothing left. use that to your advantage. those with nothing left to lose have the most to gain anyways. & i have absolutley nothing. double that & it's still nothing.
there's a certain calmness to the chaos in my surroundings that's finally settling. nothing to prick those hairs on the back your neck that spell trouble. nothing left at all. dissolved like salt into water. sterile saline solution. eh, it all fades away anyways...
"FREEDOM IS NOTHING BUT A CHANCETOBEBETTER."-albert camus
...the dream ends in an extended stay american kitchen...
-silence...
there are no magical metamorphoses, no mystical transformations. all this life is in one straight line. from point a to point b. i was never a caterpiller & i will never be a moth or butterfly. there's a sense of evolution, of natural selection. seasons of change. some of my closest friends have compared me to a chameleon, but then i realized they weren't my closest friends. there will be no parade, no party, no formal celebration when this is all complete. there is a beginning & an end & nothing can stop either one of those anymore. everything between those two points is completley undefined. leaving the greatest burden of the human race in my own small hands. no metamorphosis. can't keep waiting for the apocalypse to come.
shedding exoskeletons aside, returning voicemails, & lying on the couch. there should really be more prolific female writers. where are they all hiding. why do i not have a voice loud enough. nothing will ever be enough to satisfy, otherwise you're just lazy. resigning to a life of good enough is perhaps the worst fate in the entire world. every moment is a dizzying tailspin into death. into the end. it's all right up to the last minute before the final credits. there's nothing left. use that to your advantage. those with nothing left to lose have the most to gain anyways. & i have absolutley nothing. double that & it's still nothing.
there's a certain calmness to the chaos in my surroundings that's finally settling. nothing to prick those hairs on the back your neck that spell trouble. nothing left at all. dissolved like salt into water. sterile saline solution. eh, it all fades away anyways...
"FREEDOM IS NOTHING BUT A CHANCETOBEBETTER."-albert camus
...the dream ends in an extended stay american kitchen...
-silence...
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
You write so well.. This post really hit me in the face, Im glad I stopped by here, my day will be fucking different. Like youre saying things I almost dont dare think. Im 36. I doing ok. ok isnt good enough, but the hours days weeks months pass. It scares the hell outta me.
Thank you again. xoxo, as hey say
Heres a thousand ounces of love for makeing me jolt again. And think about my life some more..