i have to move and i have to create. and i have to learn-by-doing. these are my three Pillars. my Stool Legs. the sturdy wooden oak i fall on when I'm feeling faint like a victorian child

actually so tired of dimming my own fucking light like i'm sorry for being perfect i'm sorry for loving my life and everything i do in it. i imagined that my very presence threatened others and i shrank in advance in my fear of loneliness. and now i'm harboring resentment because the very people i dimmed my light for are now flourishing in a way that i used to. i don't think i want to do that anymore i'm sorry for being a large fucking presence but really i'm not sorry and i don't want to apologize this time i'm going to be as me as i possibly can and as big and loud and you're not gonna stop me. i love you

thought about it on my walk and it seems like all i want is money and sex. it all boiled down to money and sex. and artistic fulfillment. is this what my 20s are about

every time I think about my Job and Corporate career path and what it takes to move up i really have to starve myself like i genuinely have an intense desire to starve myself whenever i think about replaceability and humanasutility too deeply

i wish i was crazier and more fearless earlier in my life but i guess if i didn't come from there I wouldn't be here and whatever other lines i tell myself