Eau d'Bedroom Dancing

the groundhog reportedly saw "a blood red sun. in the foreground a massive wheel framing the sun in the sky. the wheel has ceased to turn". nobody is sure what this means but its probably fine

basically a lot of my problems boil down to me being really bad at waking up. and also really bad at going to sleep

When it's all said and done, wrapped up in pretty package, and handed to you with the deftness of loving hands on Christmas morning, or whether it's wrapped with a teenager's careless haste, and then forgotten amid all the clutter and chaos of the festive season, and left to collect dust in the back of a cupboard. We are so often presented with that ecstasy or hollowness. Some days the sky clouds over grey and it seems to stay that way forever. The warmth and vibrance of summer a distant memory. It's no longer about being the hero in your own story but about staying afloat and trying not to drown in an ocean of self-loathing and misery. Even the brightest pair of blue eyes do nothing to betray what hides behind them, tucked away in the complex web of you. No one will ever be able to know you so intricately that you never know an ounce of pain again, but wouldn't it be nice if someone at least tried? Not to examine you as a neurologist examines the folds and creases of a brain, but just asked how you are and what you've been thinking about lately. Perhaps true happiness isn't having everything you've ever wanted, but simply having enough. I wonder how many people out there, in the throes of some personal crisis of self, don't ask for anything more than the most basic form of acceptance and understanding? When you're growing up, you don't have the tools to articulate yourself, so you exist solely in the needs and wants of adolescence, and it isn't until you're nearly twice that age, that you understand enough to know how you could've made it all better, if only you knew then what you know now.