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have you ever made a beautiful thing? i don't really know if i have. i'd like to make beautiful things, even one thing, i think that would be alright.
its a little hard though.. some people it comes more naturally.. some people don't even know it. there's a fine line between cluelessness, aware cluelessness and ego. you can tell yourself ten times over how its going to be and there's only so much trust in the world that it'll actually happen.
its days like these where i just need to sink inside my life; it feels right. i trust in it like i trust in the hoodies i wear, you can never go wrong with hoodies. my stomach aches and everything is always above me, never at eye level. i need to learn how to live with myself again.
there must be reasons for all of this. all of this ness in the world. weirdness. strangeness. etc. but at some point i write just to write and what does it give me. dunno if its joy or just.. peace that i do it. eloquently...
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