forever empty, forever pretending i’m not empty inside, laika come home. 

i’m working thru some depression or whatever rn and i’m definitely not okay but american gods comes out soon and i’m fucking jazzed about it. 

times can be tough, times are tough. I don’t know what’s happening. I’m struggling lately, it’s hard to stay present. I want to. Almost desperately. Then again there is that comfort of not being “here”. K has discussed me going to therapy, I would like to treat people better and manage my “moments” better, tho it doesn’t seem possible. The idea of medication scares me. I wonder when I will feel like I’m not hiding something from my friends and partners. Maybe therapy is an answer to that. There isn’t a quick solution though is there. I used to confuse my anger and defensiveness with resilience. I don’t think that’s right tho. I envy those who are open, with partners with friends. I too often am an island, tearful goodbyes widen rivers and seperate us. Be kind. Be loving. Until next time. 

if i could be softer if i could be fair if i could flex instead of break like paper like muslin I tear tear tear