∞

I feel very broken in this papier-mache house I built from scraps of self-help articles and positive affirmations. The world I left behind was empty, stagnant, and boundlessly lifeless, but so is this one, only here everything is painted yellow. The walls, the floors, the food. My breath does not give birth to anything but an ongoing present.

I am not a god.

I am not a god.

I cannot create a world from nothingness.

Blood, sweat, and tears. Blood sweat, and tears.

Flecks of light on the yellow,  blinding, moments. This is not what happiness looks like. This is not what a good life looks like. I am not a god. I cannot do this alone.

My heart bleeds for you and my heart bleeds for the human race. Do me a favor and look up the symptoms of blood loss. Do me a favor. Type in the words. Symptoms of blood loss. They match mine.