i don't feel a thing like that girl that posted here all those months ago.
it's shaping up to be a beautiful year.
i am half my father's give and my mother's take.
i am crashing.
i am not a very visual person.
i've never seen a constellation in my life. everyone points upward and says "look at ____!" or "____ is out tonight" and i can never see a goddamned thing.
i thought today that someday i'd want to write about the hilarious self-isolation of my family. i don't know where i'd begin.
there are lots of things i want to write when i feel more like an authority on the matter/less like a kid/like i have more to say. when i don't have anything to say, i don't write. i have to create more things to say.
there's another goddamned cricket in my apartment and he just won't stop.
my bones are built on contradiction, and i'm waiting for them to crumble.
the ceiling is made of bees.