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i looked back on the conversations i had with you and compared them with the conversation i just had with you

couldn’t tell the difference

i dont know what part of me is always railing for me to fuck up everything that’s going well in my life

fubar

i am back. officially part of the class of 2017. “the Committee on Reinstatement has approved your return to Yale College [...]”

i knew i would return before i left new haven last mid-november. it struck me heavy then. i hadn’t been that, profoundly happy, in years. i didn’t know a year ago when i withdrew for medical circumstances (mental health reasons to be more specific, depression to be most specific) that i’d be ready in twelve months time. recovery was stagnant at first. there were moments i felt i didn’t deserve to come back, yet other moments i felt so desperate to return at any cost. but i’m glad the struggle is no longer. i’m glad what has taken its place is what existed before it -- a peculiar sense of hope in life 

friday nite harmonies

love is all

another cover obv, this one's by the tallest man on earth

It's strange that no matter if I'm on a hectic, undergraduate schedule or sleeping in for the fifth day in a row, months seem to pass right under my nose undetected. Sure, you can tell me that it's because a year becomes an increasingly smaller fraction of the total time we've spent on this world, but it doesn't change that fact that I can't believe I had my homecoming last December. And to think that I would spend twelve months at home in the midst of my junior year at Yale...yes, it's all so very strange. Life is such a fascinating stranger.

It's also strange that I wanted to kill myself not too long ago. What a silly thought that is, but I can't deny how secretly fragile my psyche is (and anyone's too, under the right conditions). I'm glad I now know what I need to prevent my mind from engendering such silly thoughts. I've been working on the not-so-silly thoughts, though. They're ninja-like, silent and dangerous. If there's to many of them around, it can mean widespread havoc. There's been a serious breach on my mental headquarters recently, and I'm sad to say the bandits were successful in their big heist. It's why I'm not going back to Yale quite yet. And that's also why I've been working on the not-so-silly thoughts. However, I'm glad to say that they've been apprehended, and most of the assets they robbed have been restored. I can hear them entering my mental headquarters less often than they used to now, and security's been beefed up since then just in case they attempt to steal the well-being of that place again.

I've stopped caring about the things I should be doing because they tend to never be the things I end up doing. This is because, 90% of the time, should is being a fucking asshole. He'll loudly and relentlessly insist that you do such and such because  "I said so", and "you know you want to feel normal". Should is all about the results, all about the utility, but not about the experience nor the meaning. Must is so much more fun to be around, in contrast. He's pretty chill. I'm sure if you found him as a stranger, passing each other on the sidewalk, he would smile at you.

There's been few commitments and loads of free time this past year, so observing what I tend towards has made my joys clear. Being a lazy, loafing bag of meat is one of them. Competitive video games and Pokemon are another, and so is ballet, writing, reading, guitar, and creating subpar covers of my favorite music. Surprise (not really), these are all the things I do when I'm procrastinating, things I shouldn't be doing. Fuck off should.

I'm still not any closer to "'figuring out' what I want to do with my life" (lmao, as if life were some puzzle you get a prize for solving), but I'm fairly certain I know what keeps me sane and what makes me insane, and I know that I can and want to stay in the zone of sanity.

idk a cover of a cover, but just the intro