ripped up by you / I admit to it now finally / I don't think I have another choice now / at the theatre today I laughed the loudest / I'm happy where I'm happy / really really really
you're not the name I remember / I'm not my name either / not the way it was in your mouth? / don't look at me funny / you know what this is / you know you know you always know
march 21
i teeter blindly through days in hope. days are time and time is irreversibly linear. i don't know what i hope for really but while i made myself dinner tonight i had a strange feeling of being a 40 year old haunted by the knowledge that i was about to die very soon. death, eventually, is the thing i hope for. one day i will be lifeless body that has to inevitably disintegrate. i am terrified of eternity. of stagnancy. of you. so does that make you an eternity? is eternity stagnant? i can never place love and fear singularly. or you. i slither back into life to remind myself eternity does not exist. people age and trees grow and one day there will be a time when both will wither and become closer than ever to slipping away.
march 23
from march 4, 1:59 am:
see me a blue dream my heartbeat is too quick my heartbeat is purple swelling violet
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on the beach at night alone 2017
i don't know what summer is for / though i have always claimed it as mine/ because my birthday is in the midst of april / i write lies about my motivations in an application form / then i hope they come true / fear is the silvery film on a scratch card / i'm scraping it out / groove by groove /
i've seen us in so so many movies / makes it seem like even more of a composition / i'm not guiltless but you're definitely worse, no? / i only hurt in small ways that i know you'll feel petty counting in
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requiem for a dream 2000
i read in a book recently that 'the best actors are usually the most boring people'. meaning, they don't have a strong sense of individuality. you have to let go of who you are. not too long ago i had a numbing hold on my Self. i have let it go, or i have really wanted to at least. badly. i love doing plays because (now) i love to forget myself. 'this is not you', the director had said to one of us. thank god it's not. i want out of my body. for some time at least
im getting selfish again / im being a terrible sport / the exhaustion is really killing my face / i kick obligations under my bed and worry about face / my eyes distort / and so does any scrap of leftover rationality and clear vision / im on the wrong planet. get me back home safely? / i sat outside the closed door and waited for my mother / if i was 5 years old again and lie down on the shoe cupboard, legs dangling off one edge and stare at the ceiling till she came back with the keys. / so how do i make this better for me and everyone? try. i'll try again / again and again and again / is this not me just making excuses?
