i talk to the paper; i talk to you

I want to want something really bad then get it

i always felt like i was keeping the light on for someone. and sometimes with other people i am. but i am not fabricating this color and light for others. it’s for me. i’m the one that needs it. and i provide it. no matter what it costs me, how much i would like to turn off the light sometimes and fucking breath every moment has to be something i have to be something otherwise everything is quiet and my life is greyscale and i am a flat piece of paper that i might as well tear up and fly away from and nobody wants that no one wants to be around a greyscale torn up piece of paper person so i am too much for myself when i need it i am too much for others when they need it class clown mario star streetlight drunk girl in the bathroom and ultimately i am afraid of the dark because i can’t remember what it’s like to live without light.

i know now why i got so angry when i was told things i loved were phases. that all, one day, will pass. because the loss of something you love is heartbreaking, but letting go because you no longer care is worse. having the surf rip something out of my hands is beyond my control. but loosening my grip little by little and realizing i’m okay with watching it sink beneath the surface is a different kind of grief. i look back on the things i loved, that brought me joy, that i no longer care about and never will love quite so much again. a song i played to death, a tv show that ended later than it should have, dreading a call from someone you used to call your soulmate. things that i love now i will sell the artifacts of in a rummage sale later and it will be a relief to clear up space in my brain for something new. love does not disappear, but it doesn’t last forever either. you learn to seek out things that will grow with you, not just placate you. love returns sometimes, yes, not because you want it to, but because the current was always going to bring it back. sometimes, growth can only happen in the absence of love.

i exist exclusively in extremes. i am desperate devoted and dizzy and if i really do love you i will devour you whole.

i think if i could get rid of one thing about me it would be my fear of looking stupid. it influences so much of what i do and don't do and i hate it. i want to look stupid. it's part of being fucking human. no one is infallible, least of all me. i want to let myself want things so much it progresses like rabies. why the fuck should i be normal about any of this. this is it, this is all i have. should i not be driven a bit insane by it?