petty, stupid void

songs: mangetout wet leg, what it is angel olsen, every star shivers in the dark

It's hard to put into words what I'm feeling right now. It's too stupid to me to pollute my diary with, so here is perfect. Here is where nobody knows me and I doubt any have ever found me and if so, I'm speechless and impressed. maybe happy. I think a very needy, perverse part of me has fantasized about being found so thoroughly. my playlists analyzed. my SPACEHEY located, of all things. But at some point you have to grow up and realize that most people have jobs and how much they fw you isn't measured by how thoroughly they want to uncover your digital footprint. I'm the one who has to see myself behind the curtain and do necessary maintenance, so the ropes and lights swing right. and when they do, it could work out forever.

I want to only document and revel in the sun and water washing over me, the highs that make all confusion melt off & life feel very complete. But I am flaws and regrets and little persistent insecurities sticking to my socks like spiky seeds biting at my ankles that I can't itch deep enough. I don't want to water them, but I must prick my fingers to pull them off. and these fingers have found their way to a blog post.

all this exposition and I find  I don't even have the energy to talk about what it is I set out to purge. ourughhh. I'm sleepy 

tomorrow I'll do it all, like always