20/2/22

the most heinous thing you can do is not defend that which you love uniquely

and the most naive thing you can say is 'there'll be a better sunset tomorrow'

17/1/22

i fall back and my head hits the wall a little

HE IS ME he is me he is me i’ve never felt like this before

he can do it too. sit in that tender magic realism of the real world (more realism, less magic). he doesn’t feel sadness he feels nostalgia that he cannot place.

he will see smoke rising from the factories, way out over the ocean on the horizon. the water is black apart from the dull moon, faded by the clouds. he wonders what it would be like to be a particle of dust. he wonders if he could capture the feeling within a song – perfectly – even if it took his whole lifetime. he wonders what else he could do with his years if he were any less selfish.

i want to scream through the screen and send him a psychic message telling him that we are the same. he must be so lonely. we are the same..

i don’t do friends in the truest sense. i do extrovert. i do it because i don’t do it at all – that’s just who i was raised to be.

so we can be nothing. i am on the other side of the world, standing on the pier watching the smoke rise and join the rest of the smog.