Midnight Musings

The problem isn’t that you have a dark energy, or you’re not emotionally available. It’s not that you’re mean or hard or cold. It’s not that you’re cruel or malicious. It’s not that we don’t get along or that we don’t have anything in common. It’s just that you didn’t choose me.

So often, I wish the art would make me. Sometimes I don’t want to make the art. The way I lay it out and give it a voice and make it warm and cared for and seen. I wish my art could do that for me.

Family is weird. We’re all just watching each other. Noticing each other grow old. Wondering who’s going to be left with only a mirror.

The moments I dive deepest into my melancholy, are the moments I wish most I had to share, but no one has proven their admittance.

Call me a hopeless romantic, but this guy is so excited and keen for more dates and is planning more dates after having only one date and my only reaction is “Why? What do you want? I don’t know you yet.”

There’s a self portrait I always wish I could paint of myself, but I’m too busy taking Ophelia to her grave.