I'm getting to become so anxious. I want something else to possess me. A goal, a purpose. A dvine inspiration. I kind of just want nothing to do that will get me stressed - which is everything.
Another large essay is due tomorrow for my FEMAHIS class - haven't even started the research for it.
Can I do it in one week? Nope.
FUCK
How do I address all the realities that I want to.
Of course other people have to go on and live their lives and shit - but damnit, of course the separation will hurt too.
These are my worries.
Essays that are not adored
Friends that are forgotten.
Holy shit, I can almost smell the distance between us. That air is thick.
Your lease is up on June 1st.
Mm. I don't know if I'm over reacting. Or what is over reacting? I am reacting. There's not an under, nor an over. Because there's not a proper.
But, to be honest.. my grip is what I'm conscious of. Relax the grip, and things will come and go, and every touch will be a blessing.
I almost cried yesterday. Because when you closed your eyes your body leaned over to me. I thought it was beautiful to watch a body react to another body. I thought it beautiful to see bodies communicate and react to another. The tears in my eyes - I keep on telling myself it's too early to cry.
I can see me biking out really really far this summer, so full of hurt and emptiness. MY COMPANION - gone. I am at my destination. And my heart and breathe is empty, my legs hurt, the sun burns. It is both nice, and empty. I am screaming and yelling at you into the phone. I can't talk to you anymore! You need to come here! I am demanding. And I know that nothing can be received. What am I demanding?
Do I want the universe to deliver? To Deliver what? you? Or what you represented? Or what you gave?
Welcome to my insanities and anxieties.
"Houston - it seems like we're running out of air."
"We know. We know."
"Maybe we'll be seeing you."
