the spade and the mud

i wonder if the amount of playlists i have will amount to anything good. i wonder if i will. i think i have for at least some moments. but after that, am i still good? did i still count?

whoever sees this, if you are able please try to help.

i miss it a little. sitting in front of the convenience store, eating instant noodles. stumbling drunken from the club one hour in, finding new stores, meeting strangers in a place you wouldn't think you'd have such a good time with. that one night was one of the most fun. i always sat and ate alone there, wishing a friend would be there. the strangers were only limited to the walls of the club, except that one time where one accompanied me to the convenience store, and we waved the other goodbye, then to each other. it wasn't all bad. it's not all bad. there's beauty everywhere, even at my lowest, there was something quiet sparkling somewhere, helping me carry on. it meant a lot to me. it may not to others. and i understand that too, to an extent.

hello