#quickshit

Last week, I thought fuck yeh. I had my entire life all figured out. The desired destination, the path I would take. 

Yesterday, there was an emotional setback of sorts. There I was again, a place too familiar. Unsure, doubtful, self loathing, laden with regrets, sinking. 

Yet after yesterday's episode of gloom and doom, today, somewhere in the messy aftermath, surfaced an affirmation. 

As much as I feel like I'm sinking deeper in quick shit, God I AM TRYING. Trying to seek answers, trying to ask the right questions, trying to wriggle my way out.

'i have not given u space to lie in, i have given u death' - photobooth, college

is it right to feel as though all my loves stay like splinters in a heart that will rot much faster than they?

jared worried about what was right a lot, as though he would ever answer his own worries, as though they had answers.

but in new spring new york, when the sun hits your face as you cross an avenue and wonder how magical the world must be for this automated playlist to know precisely what to play at this precise moment, you couldn't blame him for asking almost anything.

not when the world is so beautiful here, and there also, and when fear is a cab coming too fast down the road and love a stoplight turned red.

jared felt the carpet under his feet when he came home and felt how good it'd be to jump on it. so he did and he sang to the voice of a girl he knew once loved him, who must be singing now of some other love past theirs. it made him happy and so terribly sad, and made him think of Jackie too, who had said to him once "I found you too late this time, but on the next go-around, I'll b punctual ." he thought about that every day. it was so wondrous to him that someone he once loved could believe in love like that, between lives and outside bodies, and how remarkable it was that no longer having that someone made sense.