hello im jose.

and in the next fifty years, you will ache and you will glow. you will fall in love with people who don’t stay and still carry their names like pressed flowers in the folds of your memory. you will eat meals alone and meals with people who make you laugh so hard you forget the sting of silence. there will be mornings you can’t get out of bed and nights where you walk home humming under a sky so wide it forgives you. you’ll cry in public and smile at strangers and sometimes it’ll be the same thing. you’ll hear a song that reminds you of someone you promised you’d never forget and you’ll realize you already have, a little. you’ll outgrow versions of yourself you once thought permanent and mourn them like old friends and still you will keep going. you’ll see sunsets that make your chest tighten. you’ll be held when you least expect it. you’ll feel the cold on your face and remember what it means to be alive. and it won’t always be gentle but it will be yours.

i like to pretend i already died and asked god to send me back to earth so i can swim in lakes again and see mountains and get my heart broken and love my friends and cry so hard in the bathroom and go grocery shopping 1,000 more times. and that i promised i would never forget the miracle of being here

updated link

the worst is wanting to create and create and create but being trapped in a body that is so so so so tired