Actually Crazy How At 3 Am Different Songs Can Astral Project Me So Vividly Into Different Points In

What do you do when the person you would call about it is the one who caused this pain?

Guys I am like 80% sure I am happy and no longer depressed but I don’t actually like it? Its. a hollow happiness bc all of my passions were formed when I was mentally ill and I have no sense of identity anymore now that I am recovered ish, I fear that this crisis will work me back up into a depressive fit if I don’t find some meaningful enrichment soon

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

Tonight’s self-sabotage in the form of staying up way too late is soundtracked by everybody wants to rule the world which I am absolutely losing my mind to, the melody is so -/({#%£?{#£}~!}]€£%{, that is to say an incompressible yummy heartbreaking work of genius, how can it be so happy and so sad at once? Why do I feel so emotional about this? Screee

Today I am overcome

Such art, such joy, such satisfaction

It has come right back around

And become sadness

The only joy with any depth

Is tempered by grief

A study in contrasts

I weep over Peter Pan

I drink cocktails

I wander alone through a foreign city

An awfully big adventure

I remember the tragedies

I stare at the paintings

I read and hum and try to keep it all in mind

Why must emotion hurt?

My stomach is in knots

My cheeks are sore from smiling

I’m getting crows feet from squinting into

The bright sun on my face, on my skin

It is warm and I am beyond expression

Too lucky to believe this is my life

This is the escapist fantasy

And yet it is not enough

I remember the God-sized hole in my heart

The Lord has promised good to me

His word my hope secures

He will my shield and portion be

As long as life endures

I am obsessed with the passage of time

Clocks and watches and cycles and things

Why must new experiences

mean new endings?

I’m falling in love with being alive

With God’s creation

Art from sinners

Of the saints

Beauty makes my soul ache.

Today on doomed romance, we agreed that we care about each other but that it’s best we go our separate ways for now, I will not recover from this

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.

Saw that my bio says 19 but I am now 20 and I had a cognitive dissonance moment,,, I’m twenty? I am in my twenties? I survived teenagerdom not in a funny memey haha yeah I made it way but in a I am alive in my twenties and glad about it way? Like the people who said it gets better weren’t actually punking me and I am alive and breathing and excited for the future and actually starting to get choked up just thinking about it. We made it, past self. I’m so proud of you. You were very brave. You were so little and had no direction but you were so brave. And now, you can have a little travel the world, as a treat. And no more math! Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life this year! Maybe you’ll meet him this month! Maybe it’ll be 10 more years but actually it doesn’t matter because you are alive RIGHT NOW. In 2023. Which sounds fake. But I am telling you the truth. I love you even more than I ever hated you, which I am sure you know was a lot. Past tense. Rest and keep on plugging and chugging. It’s all waiting for you.

lately, when I think of summer, I think of

being sixteen and overgrown backyards with their old fences and rusted latches that were no match for graceless feet and hands.

warm evenings spent on balconies with our backs pressed to brick or iron, old wood and secrets splintering between us.

breathing in chlorine and lilacs under the rustling shade of a maple tree, and wondering how long you’d smell like home.

long drives and old forts and even older rivers, and the way our legs dangled off the edge of the locks, palms pressed to concrete instead of together.

roadside restaurants and souvenir shops and the way we shared sodas and honeysticks, tasting each other the only way we knew how.

the way you said, “this was fun” and “I’m glad we met,” and the way I asked, “will I see you again?” and all you could do was smile.

lately, when I think of summer, I think of you.

tracking mississippi mud along the richelieu river

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Guys I went to the national gallery in Budapest (where they filmed Shadow and Bone) and this painting had such strong Wylan Van Eck energy I had to share