Hi All, Here Are Some Diotima Quotes From Plato’s Symposium That Are Making Me Lose My Mind At 2 Am.

On today’s episode of listening to astral projection music after midnight and feeling like I’m literally going to claw out of my skin with intense emotion, I am literally home alone in a foreign country and have to be awake in 4 and a half hours and the song is Malibu 1992 by coin <3 someone please help me I am in the grip of demonic forces

Peeling Spring

It’s a citrus kinda day,

Sour sweet oranges and yellows,

I am filled with a tingling on my tongue,

And the smell of summer,

I’m alive,

My hands are sticky,

And taste of tangerines,

It is bright out,

But I’m not blinded,

The sun is in my eyes,

But I remembered my sunglasses,

I’m alive

I am so happy I don’t ever want this period of my life to end and I haven’t slept in 38 hours I’m afraid of losing even a second

Human sin and weakness is sooo funny because it's like. The deeper you are in it, the more desperate you are to keep anyone from seeing it and defining you by it. It's unbearable for someone to think of you as "the person with That Problem," and it feels more unbearable the uglier and more public That Problem is, so you scramble to hide (even when it's stupidly obvious you're hiding something, making you "person who Hides Things"), and you cut off relationships where you become too vulnerable (making you "person who Runs Away").

What's so funny is that you only actually get free of being "person with That Problem" (because that's who you are to yourself) when you stop fighting it and accept that you're in Christ, even with the problem. As soon as you can say "I do have That Problem, in fact I have Problems, but I can still be known and loved because who I am is in Jesus and not in myself," you've accomplished what you were after in the first place: being defined apart from the problem.

And it’s summer again

Sun like tangerine juice

Sky as blue as candy

Days are long and lazy

Speeding to an old song

Flying down the highway

Palm trees in the rearview

Sink into the ocean

Sparkles on the surface

Oldnew freckles darken

Grass is green and dying

Want to skin my knees by

Running on the asphalt

Close my eyes and breathe out

Sweet tea, sticky fingers

Melting ice cream, longing

Sprinklers, seafoam, swimsuits

Everything is all wet

Undercurrents, secrets

Wild, charged, electric

Whispers, laughter, screaming

At the top of my lungs

Sand between the bedsheets

We’re alone together

Only in my mind’s eye

Heat stroke made me drowsy

Home at last, I’m woozy

Piano in a dim room

Fingers fumble, keys sing

Journal then forget it

Playlist, dance, cry after

horizontal body

Everything becoming

Young, but now I’m older

Want to be a kid and

Want to be a grown up

Somewhere in between, though

Endings are beginnings

Time’s a shifting seascape

This enchanted country

Infinite and dreamy

invincible in sunshine

Weak knees in the moonlight

Nothing so romantic

As a joke and shy grin

from a boy with straight teeth

Learn the lines in all things

think I might’ve found a

Paradise right here, now

All divine, eternal

Suspended in summer

Surely it won’t end, right?

It is father’s day in this foreign country, and I miss my dead father, and I didn’t intend to bring him up at all, but my host mother of all things mentioned that anne hathaway is jewish because she was on the news, (I can’t understand well enough what they’re saying on tv so I couldn’t tell you why) and I said that I’m jewish, and that my grandfather came from Russia, and she asked if it was my mother or father’s father and I of course said my father’s and she said not your stepfather who lives with you right? It’s your father who doesn’t live with you anymore? Which in retrospect is a bit intrusive, and I was like yeah and she said, does he still live in America? and I just said, because I don’t know any euphemisms or nicer ways to say it in their language, he’s dead. And I feel glad to have spoken of him aloud today, to have remembered him, but I made things uncomfortable and awkward and I could have avoided it, and I feel a little shame, but I haven’t done anything shameful, so I am writing this out in my own language to process it. Thanks for listening void :/

Listening to Suzanne by Leonard Cohen repeatedly and I am sick I am SICK, she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from china and the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbor.. unwell quaking astral projecting screaming into this void etc.

Am I lonely or just bored? Are those the same thing? Can we all be bored together? Do I cause my own suffering?

Hal Borland / M. Cumulus Life, Illuminations / Mary Quant / Unknown / Take a Load Off, Joanna Franklin Bell / Unknown / The Wild Marsh Four Seasons at Home in Montana, Rick Bass / July Moon, Louise Townsend Nicholl / VSCO: vxdb / The Months, Linda Pastan / Instagram: KJP / Lot, Bryan Washington / Tumblr: nobodysflower

Am I being unhinged? Mishinged even? Only time and the memory of a version of me that no longer exists could tell you