Sorted through and cleaned a bunch of bins and drawers in my room this week. I found a bunch of drawings, letters, notes, and random reminders of things that mattered once before, still do, and never did despite all the convincing I tried to do for myself.
It was a nice awakening albeit a rude one. It’s safe to say I don’t know shit about my emotions. Or the concept of forever. Everything is one huge grab bag.
Sometimes it’s like some of those things never even happened since I can’t accurately recall every single memory. One would think forgetting is like a sort of freedom, but I miss those moments just as if they were remembered in colorful detail.
Sitting at the kitchen table. Picking up a feather. Slicing carrots with a shitty knife. New glasses. Fake parking tickets. Oaths to not plagiarize. Biweekly stipends. Volunteer badges. Christmas cards.
How strange it is that we try desperately to be happy when only through intense loneliness do we feel, and possibly act, most human.
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