Everything is all wrong. I would make art but what would be the point? I am doing it all wrong. I am fat and I have horrible feet and I am weird and lonely and in love and infatuated and poor and sad. If I am who and what you want, then why don’t you want me?
“Because all the fighting and all the tears and all the uncertainty is worth it. And it's a hell of a lot better, than being 100% happy without someone to show us that there is a world of a difference between feeling 'happy' and feeling whole.”
Everything is wrong. I want things. I want money. I want my life to be more minimal. I thought that the freedom of summer would make me happy but, like every other summer, the thoughts of empty days stretched before me make my stomach lurch and my eyes water. I am not who I want to be. I am not where I want to be. And I am certainly not with whom I want to be with.
The sun is breaking through the clouds but it’s not making me feel any better. I understand you. You don’t surprise me anymore. I know you so well. Be here now.
I’m embarrassed about all the things I’ve ever thought, all the things I thought I wanted. I am so greedy. And so confused. I dreamt about him last night, and missed him. But it was just a dream.
I know what I want now. I am sure and certain and willing to do anything. But it doesn’t make a blind bit of difference.