It's hard. Isn't it? To feel a million things at once. And they're all conflicting with one another. But no one feeling shouting louder than any of the others. And so the only way to be with those feelings. Is to do nothing. Because it's so damn confusing to know what to do, if anything at all. And all the while. To feel like all of those pitiful feelings. Are completely unjustifiable. Especially the ones that tend to paint it all over that foggy thick gray color that mutes all the sounds and all the lights and all the feelings that really want to be coming through that feel like. Something. Happy. And so then. The only real way to feel. Is lost.
no. 28
There. There. There you are. Seeing it. And feeling it. And the whole time it's me. And I know it. Know it like a moment you can feel a breeze and remember what it's like to feel right now. Because that's all we have. And it's so important. And it makes me feel so loved. And heard. And seen. And I wonder what we did to deserve each other. But I know. The only important thing. Is that we are. Deserved. And deserving.
no. 27
It’s patience. And quietness. And stillness. But not static. Not unmoving. Not dead. I can be here. And just. And let. And breathe. And demand nothing. Not wanting. Or knowing. Or wandering. In the middles of me, while I’m here. Here as in all of time. Now. Feeling everything and nothing at once.
no. 26
I don’t believe in overcoming fear. It’s in us, with us, like our shadows, bathing new mountains before we even know they’re there. But it’s okay. It’s okay, because I’ve realized that it’s my fear, this friend, this soulmate of mine who keeps me present. Just as long as I can mind her like a vice, never to swallow me up or close my eyes, I understand now that she’s the reason I insist. She’s the reason I must. She’s the reason I choose to feel most alive.
no. 25
Maybe it’s because the thing you’re afraid of is your self. Because you know, the only thing standing in your way, is you.
no. 24
I begin to realize, what I admire most, is the truth in who you are, laid out, open to the air, fearless of pain, deliberately honest, excusing nothing, and feeling everything.
For Leslie.
no. 23
Some days. I just need to pretend. I can hide from you.
no. 22
Life, you ironic thing you.
no. 21
Words trick me into believing, that some day, in their accumulation, I will finally be able to understand you.
no. 20
What is truth, if not something from which we must hang?
no. 19
What is truth, if not something from which we must hang?
no. 18
When we realize. Sometimes we are not enough.
no. 17
balance is relative.
no. 16
control is an illusion.
no. 15
enough.
no. 14
she calls it frustration.
no. 13
where. wear. ware.
no. 12
tell me this is what i wanted.
no. 10
my wings.
no. 09
perpetually ambiguous.
