think i got music poisoning

but who am I without my sensitive heart?

getting older and weirder and sexier and more perverted and gluttonous and intelligent and blunt and eloquent and spontaneous and skilled is literally what it's all about

fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this

oh what's the point

warm sunshine. good food. smell of old book pages. cicadas shake outside my window. branches rustle. the sun and clouds relax above me. the blanket is soft against my skin. i keep forgetting this is all just here, whenever i want to remember it. i can feel any time i want.

at least the colour green exists

sits on my own blog like it’s the edge of a lake wistfully