Dreams of a Social Revolution

sometimes i wonder if the stars are tired of us pointing at them and making wishes—like they're just cosmic beings trying to mind their business while humans keep attaching their little dreams to them

some days i wake up thinking i've got this life thing figured out, then i spend ten minutes looking for my phone while i'm holding it and talking on it

sometimes i think about how terrified shakespeare would be if he could see high school students opening their copies of hamlet and finding the pages covered in neon yellow highlighter and pencil annotations, knowing this was the closest thing to biblical scripture in modern academia. like sorry will, i'm writing "daddy issues??" in the margins during the closet scene, humanities credit requires it

I've spent five years apologizing for who I am and five minutes being myself, and somehow the minutes were harder.

i am no longer telling people when i have a crush on them. from now on i will simply send them pictures of ducks until our inevitable union.

sometimes i think about how weird it is that when we listen to music, we're essentially vibing to people making organized noise with their mouths and random objects. like i'll be sitting there having a religious experience over someone hitting metal strings in a specific order and then another person saying "i'm sad" in a pretty voice. and yet I'll still blast it at full volume in my car with the windows down, sobbing as if it's the most profound thing I've ever heard.

when they tell you to get a new personality so you go through twenty different spotify playlists before settling on "sad indie girl" for the fifth time this month

I love that feeling when a song comes on and suddenly you're no longer just a person waiting for the subway but the main character in a music video about yearning and possibility. Like the world around you is just set dressing and your little insignificant life is cinematically beautiful for 3 minutes and 47 seconds. And then the song ends and you're back to checking if your train is delayed again.

sometimes you build a home in someone who was only meant to be a rest stop on your journey, and that's why you feel so displaced when they leave

sometimes i imagine the songs of heartbreak written about me by people i never think about anymore. and somehow, that hurts twice as much.

today i showed my roommate a clip from a 2000s movie and mid-way through she goes "wait, is this porn?" and it's like.. girl this is literally "27 dresses" starring katherine heigl can we plz address your apparent inability to recognize romantic comedies or are we gonna unpack your internet habits first

it's always been the small absurdities that i cherish the most: the way you laugh at your own jokes before you finish telling them, how we both reach for the same french fry, and those silent car rides where nothing needs to be said

sometimes I think about how drivers who back into empty parking spaces are playing life on hard mode for no reason? like you could just pull in normally and then drive forward later, but instead you're out here doing a 17-point reverse maneuver while I wait behind you. is this about preparedness? are you ready to make a quick getaway at all times? are you just really proud of your backup camera? genuinely need to know the psychological profile here

i swear there's a special feeling that hits only at 2am when you're lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and suddenly remembering every embarrassing thing you've done since 3rd grade. like why am i replaying that one time i waved back at someone who wasn't waving at me? or when i called my teacher "mom"? the brain really said "now seems like a perfect time for some trauma compilation highlights" 💀

funny how life's most profound changes can sneak up on you—like how grocery shopping alone suddenly becomes a bizarre act of self-care instead of a chore

sometimes the most healing thing you can do is stop trying to heal and just let yourself feel everything without turning it into a self-improvement project

thinking about how much my life changed the day i gave up on trying to look "healthy" in pictures and just started looking hot. the chronic illness can stay between me, my doctor, and all seventeen of the daily pills i swallow with my cold brew. anyway here's a poolside selfie where i look like the attractive corpse from a victorian novel so i can piss off both my exes simultaneously