I would call myself basic but that feels basic.
I sat down to write an epic manifesto and all I can think about is the fact that my eyelids feel heavier than they’ve felt since I was a fucking newborn realizing these things inside my skull would have to be opened, used, to guide me. But I was doing fine with them closed, this wasn’t part of the deal.
Why do I keep doing this?
At least I can lull myself with the sound of the keyboard.
I colored in an adult coloring book today. Jesus. It’s actually called, ironically, “How to Be Happy (Or At Least Less Sad).” Honestly, a highlight of my day. 10/10, would recommend. Fuck corny. Let Corny be my Christian, God-given name. May the Angel Gabriel greet me at the Pearly Gates with a Holy “Corny, We’ve been waiting for you…”
Been staring at a lot of walls recently.
Maybe if I smell enough good things?
Peppermint, lavender, lemon, cinnamon.
Nah, never mind.
Some things I know for sure:
1: What doesn’t work and 2: what does.
Some things I cannot figure: the leap from 1 to 2.
In my mind, I read this like a slam poem. And I fucking hate slam poems.
Click clack click. Clappity clap. Snap snap.
How can you expect anyone to listen to you when you stopped listening to yourself?