i want that trophy

get more out of life. read a fucked up book.

going to the library tomorrow, you convinced me.

Escape screen time, rearrange furniture, open all the windows even if it’s cold, drop the baggage, drop the stuff piled up in the closet, drop the clothes I haven’t worn since 2019, go outside every day, breathe fresh air, stay out until it gets dark, feel the sun on my face

Grandmas were so right about puzzles and knitting and crocheting and solitaire and reading slow and slippers and baking and watching deer in the backyard send post

scrolling twitter today and then coming over here is like walking out of a burning building and then walking into the calm remains of a building that burnt down 5 years ago and has been reclaimed by nature.

If you’re a little weird that’s kinda sexy of you

no one tells you how much of life takes practice. not just writing, painting, running, singing, etc, but practicing how to make friends. how to make the right ones. getting practiced at how to be a good friend, a good sibling, a good person. practice identifying when people haven’t earned that. learning to recognize your right to rage and, eventually, how to offer mercy. so much of life is muscle memory, and i’ve begun to realize there are so many more parts of ourselves to flex and stretch and strengthen than those we’re taught in anatomy lessons

hometowns have a thousand little ghosts pushing through the pavement that trip you up wherever you go how are we meant to live like that

on my way out of my hometown i’m torn between: “i have too many ghosts here” and “i don’t have enough ghosts anywhere else”.. a haunting doesn’t always have to be bad. it can be a light in my childhood best friend’s window after she moved away seven years ago.. it can be the smell of lilacs in spring that just don’t smell the same in another state.. it can be seeing an old classmate’s parent in line at the grocery store and being given a hug. there are small joys in tripping over my ghosts. sometimes the ghosts love me as much as they hate me.. but either way they’re proof i’ve lived. i left a fingerprint on the world here. small as it might be..