i have all this big glorious thoughts about reminding people about magic
but all of my actual ideas feel grotesque or at least dark

MY BODY HAS A LOT TO SAY

and it’s full of revelations

firstly being how right kat’s dance teacher is that if you want to write you have to first move. i switched up my body and my mind woke up. so full so sure.

it’s not that “everything happens for a reason.”
it’s that everything means something. (does it? me who loves nonsense, do i really believe that?) or maybe it’s more like nothing happens in a vacuum. everything is attached to something. but maybe everything does have meaning and if it seems like nonsense it’s because the riddle isn’t unscrambled yet? after all, we’re just the conduits.

driving along and thinking about the past, my past self. my happy list - the joy in simple things. picnics and mud and swings and dancing. just friends. those are all the real things. when did it get so bogged down? and when did i decide that my depression has always been eating me alive?? i mean it has but it’s not like i never enjoyed anything. i felt miserable in a cruel world that made me hate myself and makes people have to do horrible things to keep up with it. i was never actually the problem. i had so much passion and energy and i knew what was important!!! i’ve got to get that back.

and that was another revelation - all along six of cups. for months six of cups - good memories, childhood, family, roots, growth. i have to remember how to play. i have to get some of that child essence back. to be good and do good and CLOWN and remember how to be happy.

HARRY COULD ALMOST CRY AT THIS SIMPLE GIFT OF THE UNIVERSE.

i’ve been staring at it all along and i never really saw it. i’ve been saying yes yes i know and thinking it has to do with being home but now i see it’s about something i’m missing, or don’t have enough of, something essential. REMEMBERING TO PLAY. remembering to move. appreciating sensual experiences. i see now how i have to kill some of the adult learned bullshit to get back to a place where i felt better being a blank slate. (i’ve looked for that feeling so many places. sex, masochism, drinking, fire, internet, candy crush, dancing. playingggg and moving without myself is the best one. yeah?!)

i have to say thank you to the clown gods for being patient with me on this one. i’m sorry i had to ask so many times. i need to find a better way to process these tarot readings. through dance, maybe??? today i had the urge to get off after the reading, to be open and explode pleasure in the presence of the cards. i thought that would give them energy. obviously they don’t need it! i’m the one who needs the movement, the rhythm, the process!!!! to take it into my mind it has to come through my body. or vice versa.

is it a gift that the clown gods, the earth messengers, others, out there, are communicating with me? i guess they must talk to everyone like this, but not everyone listens (or knows how to). not trying to talk like i’m some great listener!! obviously i missed the six of cups message for months. (why haven’t they given up on me??) but i want to learn and i want to do better. better, bigger, harder, brighter magic. i want to make it good enough. i hope they’ll keep helping me understand how.

also side note i really need to get “brett” or whatever skeptical voice out of my head so that my thoughts stop getting distracted. ugh. at this point, how can i even doubt????

moments of clarity

brighter, harder, bigger MAGIC

feeling it today, feeling good. remembering that i don't need to swing wildly from the extremes of "i'm the worst" to "i'm so special and good" and actually there's this nice safe place in the middle. i'm not better than other people. i think everyone has the capacity to tap into magic, to pull down the moon, breathe fire. maybe i have some different channels open than other people do, but that doesn't make me better or special. i don't need to be huge, or be a star, or change the whole damn world, if i can change who's in the room, speak truths, bring in the small magic.

follow the fool
follow the impulse
the body knows something the mind doesn't

DANCE FREAK DANCE!!!!!!! DANCE FOOL DANCE!!!!!!!!
that would be an awesome queer dance party, lets make that happen. where??

i hear the right songs and i CAN'T NOT MOVE. i know what they are. cultivate htem and put them together. let's have a fucking dance party already. i can take it to the woods. i can take it anywhere.
i can take the clown to the woods without the nose, the hat, the covered body. i can clown wherever i need to, with anything. haven't i always??? when did i get hung up on accoutrements?!!? yes i want to keep learning and growing, yes i've got to evolve it all. but when did i ever want to do only one thing? can't i be clowning and dancing and following no rules? except the main one - give up give up give up. give up your thoughts and give your body over and let the gods move through you. stop thinking stop thinking stop wishing stop wanting. this is all there is, now.

yes okay fine the question of the audience, but right now they're not here. it's just me in my room. and sometimes i IMAGINE they're there, and that trips me up, traps me. i can't let them come in. it's dancing more than anything else because i fear the predatory eyes and the judgment and they think they own my body. i want to say, when i feel that gaze, my whole body will revolt, contort, i will become bug and beast. never for you never for you never for you.

take it through. if they want to come to your world, they can be an audience and we'll talk together. if they want to ride the wave and the rhythm of this mess, we can make it work together. they don't just get to come here and make demands.

keep the mind open keep the body moving
find new eyes find new power
yes yes yes yes feel that fire !!!!

can we always be dancing?? can we warm up wake up dancing every day? how can we try?
(we need a floor first, oh yeah)

stop thinking

listen i'm not even drinking
listen i'm stone cold sober
(unless you count adderall, 9 hours before)
i'd like to keep talking but i need to go take care of the dogs and then pack and then blah

maybe there is a lesson here about HOW I AM FUCKING OVERTHINKING EVERYTHING IN MY FUCKING LIFE and it shouldn't take this long or this much stress to pack. i'm going to the woods, but what do i really need?? a toothbrush and some clothes and a flashlight. why do i think i need more?

please alanna please stop being so sucked in by the computer. you think you need to know stuff that you don't need to know. most of what you are doing is actually hoarding. much of the time you are just following a line of tabs that never get read or watched and just pile up and pile up. REMEMBER WHEN you didn't miss that???? remember the communes in 2015 and remember the freedom of being phoneless in the loony bin???? you can't know everything and it stops mattering. the focus shifts. you've got to get to that. you've got to get to your body and intuition and the computer is neither of those things. you've got to stop. you're going to stop right now and you're going to stop writing and turn off the computer and go do the htings you have to do. you're going to cleanse your body and spirit in the woods, in the mud, in the river. when you come home, you're going to organize your fucking room and set up a fucking work space. you're going to make some fucking art. you're going to write. you're going to get one of those copyediting jobs and bring in some green beans. things are on the move and they're going to happen but we have to make them happen.

CAN WE DO A TWO WEEK COMPUTER CLEANSE OR SOME SHIT

okay here we go

lost on the ride

i haven't been writing. that's no good. i think this adderall helps my brain to not be a pinball machine but instead i am constantly hyperfocusing (??) i don't know if that' sthe right word to use for what is happening. i'm forgetting that i put a string around my finger. i maybe lost hte string before it even got to my finger. oof. i'm getting lost in the internet ALL THE TIME. this week i made a bunch of internet IMPULSE BUYS which is a new thing that i've never really done and it was a little too easy. i'm trying to do some research, or what i am doing turns into research, but i am just amassing a bunch of links and articles that i have not read. it's all stuff that's very exciting to me, about clown and performance and activist art, but the deeper i go, the more overwhelmed i am. first of all, by the amount of information i've already gathered that i haven't touched, and second, by the sheer amount of people in this work. is this kinda why i fell off the train last year? when i realized there are thousands of clown troupes roving around the world, living my dream??
BUT REMEMBER - if them, why not me? don't forget that xmas revelation!!! that was a big one. if people are doing it, why can't i be one of them?? because i'm afraid of not being as good as them OR of not being original enough. it seemed like a better idea before i realized there were thousands of theatre clowns. BUT ALSO REMEMBER - as we learned from our trip to dell'arte, much of what these clowns are doing is not exciting to me. they're doing a different thing, they're on their own journey. that's why i keep coming back to POCHINKO and the CLOWN FARM and canada and i know i have to go there. i have to write to john, said donna. i have to call donna back. why am i avoiding these things???????? fear of failure, probably. goddamn that one.


i just got lost on a goodreads trail for like 30 or more minutes. what hte fuck. i didn't want to and i don't want to. i have nO SELF CONTORL!!!!!!

damn dumb

i've opened a beer but i'm out of lives on candy crush and also on two dots and that means i have to find something new to look at on the phone or try to be in my body in 20 minutes or however long it actually takes to drink a beer - does anyone know?
i'm sick with shuffle playing love songs. i want the passion but not the subject.
i tell myself it's okay, today is so and so, this isnt time to quit or even abstain. as if the day exists. what a fiction ! does adderall make my memory worse? could it get any worse?
(maybe i didn't know before... i'm not good at remembering the specifics but i can feel changes - or maybe i was always doing these physical things but my brain was pinballing so fast i didn't take the time to observe the physical stuff except every now and then? (oh wait your toes have been crunched up for maybe 30 minutes and it doesn't feel so great.))

run with the wolves and make art

respond !

be wild

be stupid

if you're thinking too much you're not able to be creative

don't use fear to avoid the river

work EVERY DAY no matter what

notebooks. pens. pockets.

get the fuck off the internet

fucking today why

saw on the calendar that today is the new moon. it's june. which means that today is the one year anniversary of chris cheating on me (to my knowledge) and also leaving me. no wonder i have felt like hell all day. and now my heart is racing and my mind is fuzzy and all the other stupid shit that happens when i get triggered. my throat closing. my eyes blurring. the whole deal. i just want to lie down but i have so much to do. i guess it's better to stay busy than to wallow.


also my cat has been gone since before the storm last night and i'm very worried.

why in the fuck do i think i can be everywhere at once
why can't i pay attention when people are supposed to listen to me
why can't i pay attention when i'm supposed to hear anyone



what the fuck is wrong with you.
why do you sound miserable and whiny all the time.
no one wants to be friends with a depressive or someone who is constantly complaining. this is not news.
you look back at the night, the day, the week, the month, and you remember conversations but not where you were. like your mouth just opens and the shit flies out without you intending it to.
maybe medication can fix this.
how the fuck do you fix this? being unintentionally negative whiny complaining. being never in your mind or body. being automatic fool forever. how the fuck do you fix something so far gone

to try to write a line

i've made a home out of my chair
a cave in my room
it's not as if i don't care
it's just i can't move



i get mixed up
i feel fucked up


i put the pressure on it. i thought maybe if i got to this place after two beers and some smokes and a bug collaprsing on my shoulder and a possum in the bush and the smoke in my eyes and the bugs dancing around the light i thought i could set the mood and the keyculator would work its magic. it doesn't hmake the magic. the smoke blows back into my nose and eyes while i type and it's not very fun. this is not a glamorous life. why does this bug want to keep dying on my shoulder? flailig on the pavement, then my shoulder, and repeat.
i'm astounded by the things i don't notice. i think of myself as an astute person but i'm barely awake and living. there's so much in my head i can't stand. i've made my own undoing.

the day is new and fresh with life
i've seen all my mistakes
there's no reason to return to strife
now that i know the stakes

at the end of the tunnnel
at the other side
if i can get through this
if i can keep a ride
there's nothing at the bottom
there's nothing at the top
there's nowhere like a button
to keep you in your lock
they'll try to blame you
they'll try to tame you
they'll try to change you
they'll try to frame you
you were there in the chair. you were there and you were thinking. you were thinking you were sitting you were waiting you were wanting. you wanted everything. you saw everything. the visions came and stayed. you wanted it all. and you wanted it all at once, right now, here, instant, evolution, propulsion. you were sitting and thinking and it wasn't ever going to be good enough. you had plans but you couldn't figure them into action at the same time. you had dreams but you surrendered to memes. your body sinks and shrivels into a familiar cushion dent. you know you came but you haven't went. your hand finds its familiar place picking at your head. your hand moves to your mouth and your fingers taste like lead. the crashing in the bushes creates rushes down yr spine. you tell yrself it's nothing but yr afraid at the same time. when all you want's a possum but the humans run yr mind. please be. please don't be. please be. please don't be.
i think the trick is not to look.
i think the trick is cricked crook.
i think i want a fishing hook.
yes yes it's true hte words come fast
when yr eyes arent on full blast
the light's deceptive, bright, and cruel
sending yr brain straight back to school
and what a hell and what a mess and do your best and get recess
and yes plese keep on that new dress
and wonder why yr hair's a mess
lady lady lady lady lady
wherefore art thou
lady lady lady lady lady
screaming as a cow
the sow without the baby
the screaming of a lady
the sow whose stolen baby
flown off to run rain yr meat


don't let yrself think about it
just keep going
yr in the drinking
yr into thinking
there's bugs that's flying
and bodies sighing
yr own is wanting
you feel it haunting
yr tongue is heavy
yr fingers steady

best of all i love that darling maiden
who is standing at my bed feet
best of all you laid the bed you made in
and curled up yr own bed sheets
you wish you never thought again
you wish you thought it all
you wish you couldve again began
beofre this same damn fall
now the lights have run past their scene
and scattered the critters gone
and even if it means it's time for me to leave
i'll be damn sure those lights turn off
come back my friend the possum babe
come back my friend raccoon
come back my friend the little junebug
come see if we see the moon



finally the lights are gone
andf finally w're free
and finally my mouth is open
for finally my words can sing


now here a different problem.
the woreds in the air and myh hands move along them
the clouds in the skhy and the beer in the cup
no one ever concined yyou about growing up
it all semed a plot and a ploy to fall in
why not canter, why not banter, why not never fal in
i'm still not convinced they've got more in their cup
when they're winsome, when they lose some, when the grown ups grow up

as if i can keep cracking my neck to make thw ords come
as if i can keep asking the mirror make me handsome
my pants could light a fire but never if i got some
imagine if i wasn't the loose change that makes you choose one
what a bitch what a bitch to epxect others to seelect
what abitch to expect others will select
what a bitch to insist that someone edit
what a bitch in our midst ther's no closer you can get
alright ibreahte you
alright i hear you
alright alright
there's no going over

ifthe truth is that everyone is borede with you
how are you going to wake up
if the truth is that you have nothing to say
how can you
how can you
be better
be better



i've made a home out of my chair
a cave in my room
i've cradled something i can't bare
i've shoulderered too soon
i've gone off the goose
but you know there's no pan



and in the screams of the night
how can i make it right
my hands clack along
i cant write a song
i cant find a way up
i cant find a way out
my fingers crack and coil
my mind shuts a shout
there's nothing i can hear
there's nothing i left out
if i could only stand up
i'd know what i'm about

if i can' tbegin
if i can't begin
if i can't begin

some days i dream i have it all
some nights i dream i never fall
some skies i scream to build a wall
some times i know i scribble scrawl
some things i know i can't recall

i had teh memory ocnce but it's gone
i had the mission once but oh god
wishing i was just living now
stood up once but then i sat down


listen i saw it
lithe light i saw it
listen i remember a thing no one taught
listen i learned a new thing i forgot
if i can see it i can be it
if i can know it i can go tehre
if you can see me that could be me
if you believe me i can be me
keep kissing keep kissing all the hard joints
keep missing keep missing all the true points
th
i've seen the light and i want that bright
i want that shine and i'll make it mine
it's easy now that i've tried a line
this greasy cow and its medicine
just give it hope and i'll give its shine
the ducks apluss with turpentine
you well remember tasting old wine
you wish you weren't so serpntine

how how how
if only if only if only
a click to say the longest feels
a clack to replace healthy meals

i don't feel like i'm living. i can't remember when i last did. i feel like life is just a thing that is happening to me and sometimes it feels like i can't keep up with it, and sometimes i wish it would catch up with me. my brain has been so frazzle scattered i don't know what i'm doing or what i've done. i feel like that is a main part of the problem - i am so unfocused i can't be where i am. i can't do what i'm doing. sometimes the only things i can focus on are the things that make me feel least myself, or least alive -- what the fuck is that about?? why is it easy to focus on a fantasy novel, or candy crush saga, or television, but if i'm actively doing something, the whole world scatters apart and nothing will line up in my mind and i feel insane doing anything. i can't even focus on my own feelings enough to be in them....?! like i didn't want to go to rehearsal and i was feeling awful about the play but when i got there i just turned on goober mode and acted silly but we didn't get anything done and i didn't act like i cared about it at all. what the fuck is wrong with me.

i guess saying things like that isn't going to help. i'm just so tired.

after the flower moon party, on judy's porch

i find that i literally don't have the words taht i need.
this is nothing new. i've said it 10000 times. that's part of et problem. i say it for so many situations. it is true but the nuances are hard to me to define.
right now. i want to sincerely say oh i hope you're having a good time and that's why you might not want ot talk to me but everything i try to say think of saying comes out passive aggressively in my mind, in my type. how can i be kind? can i never be graceful?
maybe i should go and work on a letter instead of waiting for a call.

other thoughts.

i came out onto the porch to find myself in the window of the full flower moon. she's behind a tree now, i can see the peeking but before, my timing was bperfect. we were aligned. i could feel her looking at me. (yes i'm that selfish.)

i have the impulse to clamber up stairs with all four limbs and i do it as often as possible - in homes only - usualy alone and unseen. so no, not as often as possible. my exaggeration makes me a constant liar.
it is the closeness of the floor and the fully body movement and
somehow
better than when i run up on only two feet, the too quick pitpat of bouncing hair and breasts.
clambering they swing, as they should, if they must exist at all.
then comes the part where i try to define my feelings about my breasts and find it imposssible because of the shifting shifting thougthts and how hard it is to think about them at all sometimes that there is no way to make a true statement. sometimes i remember that women name their own, that their connection to them is more than inconvenient sacks, and it shocks me into the remembrance that my dysphoria exists, is real, runs deep, despite how i push it to always away.

i try calling again. i'll give it two. three. four rings. i hang up and feel like a fool. why does this power have to play? why can't i feel rooted and honest in the way i feel in so many of my other close friendships? what sets this apart? what teh fuck is wrong with me?

for some reason i'm smoking and drinking. for some reason i can't quite remember.

looking at these tiny ass photos on my phone and trying to choose which one has the best light and the best composition and the best arc of the foot i am grumpy that i'm staring at this screen and not 8x10s hanging from clothespins in a dark room - why did i have to be now - why are my retinas burning and corneas damaged from staring always at these screens
why am i always saying the same thing
somebody make me write a sonnet
how many chances can i get to say it

patterns - when i look at what i shouldn't

my skin gets cold
my vision blurs
my heart jumps
i feel fuzzy
i feel dizzy
i feel broken up
i feel useless/worthless/pathetic
i feel angry
i feel unsteady
my whole body tenses
time stops
i can't focus
my eyes dance around - i can't focus
i feel hell
i hate myself for looking
i get intrusive visuals of them fucking
i feel like the world is closing in
when i see his eyes i feel trapped
i become small
i try to disappear

rage rage rage
i hate him so fucking much
i just want to spit on his stupid face

i fear the patterns i developed because of him, the ones i learned from him

i want to change
i want to be free
i want it to be over
i feel desperate
i want revenge
i want him to hurt
i fear these feelings
i fear what this has done to me

GIVE UP GIVE UP GIVE UP
no one wants your words

tiny fragments of a dream

the little village of fairies(?) is slowly being possessed by bad fairies / demons. you can tell by their infinite cold eyes that they're gone. i've gotta stop them without them knowing that i know !


earlier in the dream - bekka showing me their house and some kind of escape hatch out the garage door. i remember they asked for me suggestions for improvement (or something) and i said something really obvious that they already had or were working on and they laughed at me. it wasn't mean but i felt silly.

why tho

i came home after two beers with a headache and i didn't care, i had two more, for the first time in at least ten and two days and is that good? am i better? i've been so miserable mad pathetic i have nothing to give. i am thinking of being dead and what ease. maybe my dream was prophetic or maybe i should be proactive. i don't need this beer that i snuck for. i don't know why i need to sneak. i crave the game. (there are so many better games)

how does everyone just make their stuff and do their things and it seems
not easy
but possible
how is it that everything to me looks like anti itself
how is it i am even still here


goddammit if you go anywhere

it takes so much strength in this state not to say it




did i write it? i don't remember.
when i came home after 2 beers after 0 for a week i felt
yuck not sleepy but tired probably could sleep but why bother when i could have another
prowled and pranced
kissed dogs
avoided questions so that old biddy wouldn't have to answer I HATED THE MOVIE I HATE THE COMPANY I HATE ALL THINGS
wasn't it supposed to get better if i wasn't drinking ?
wasn't it supposed to be booze that made my mind lo go ?
i borrowed the beer and i don't know why
i feel like all hell here by myself with: yes i did, there were two more beers, so four and i'm a wreck
the impulse is
tell yr wreck
text someone
let them know what hurt you or if it's late enough only how hurt
i'm trying to not
i'm trying to stop
if i'm true
how i have forced my sad feelings on everyone everyone everyone i know lately
- i used to be so much better at hiding -
i got it in my mind - it looked like - expressing would be better
i thought i saw it
i was jealous
all these people sharing sharing sharing and
!
there they go how
even i've seen them
so yeah okay so what's even real
so i try to let myself feel that impulse
and i'm just idiot speak a fool unhappy garbage tongues or beating down these closed doors or near nonverbal at the shore
i hate it i hate it how i could kill it
is it my turn

im supposed to back off but its hard
especially seeing f like this, yes hi, yes i drank it up
why am i nicer now
that wasn't the deal
why is it i grow meaner every day and seems like more when i'm sober


here is the feeling where i want to call them. this is probably also the thing that tomorrow i would say - why the fuck did i call them so late. how dumb. here is the thinking i will try to say.
i'm trying to keep my distance but it's hard so hard. i thought about saying something. i thought about typing true words. then i remembered im doing distance but by then i've started to open the window so i think - might as well check. and look. there is your sweet little face, you've seen and you know and still you don't speak. FUCK how it KILLS. what the fuck have i done what the fuck can i do. how can i ever make anything okay. i think - just tell them quick, the true thing, or no that's too honest or hurting or boring, no so tell another line - but no i said i wouldn't. because yes that's all i have done for two+ weeks now and i haven't gotten anything back. the method fails. i have failed. again again again.
and even still i think - if i can't have texts that work maybe i can just call and speak clear or even if not that my missed message will be a signal - the one saying i miss you and i want you around and i love you and -- pretty much the things i've tried to say with typed words on a regular basis.
they are too much or they aren't anything.
what a fucking fool.
tonight i'm glad i didn't call. did i make myself understand myself?
i'm always waking up and checking and oh fuxking gods why why why did i call at 4am what was i thinking what is wrong with me
yes yes everything yes yes kill it
i have the hardest time believing in t

death dream

visited by a brief vivid vision of Death this am - so vivid it woke me up at 730am. i only remember the very end. i had expressed the fear to them, "brett thinks when you die there's just Nothing next." they seemed to smile even though they were cloaked and had no visible face. brett and i are lying side by side on the ground. there's no pain or anything. it's almost like it's just Time To Go. we're as ready as we can be. Death tells us it's time. i start feeling different almost instantly but it's gradual, not harsh. my vision is dimming but my body is filling with warmth. the feeling is of comfort. i start to smile but say "wait!" and reach for brett. he folds into me and we hold each other, grinning, dimming. Death peers over me, the inside of the cloak is still a darkness with no face, "does this feel like Nothing to you?" and we are letting go and it feels like fading out and tuning in at the same time. my mind is joining the infinite universe and i'm saying goodbye and hello. and then i wake up !

dream and doings

well i did it again and took a melatonin too late so i'm having a damn hard time waking up and getting out of bed. so much for "fresh and bright" or whatever i said last night. so funny bc sometimes it feels like the melatonin doesn't do anything and other times it gives me crazy dreams and i'm groggy all morning. whaaaa. what's the perfect time to take it? midnight is too late for waking up before 10. (also i didn't actually go to bed till 2am woops)

did have an interesting dream where i got to hang out with will toledo (aka car seat headrest) at the furry convention except that it felt like it was at a commune in the woods - not one i know. maybe mostly like twin oaks. i think i approached him first but somehow he recognized me from seeing a video of me online - sounds like it was a shakespeare parody actually. we wandered around together awkwardly, trying to figure out where i'd left my clothes so that we could get dressed up for karaoke night. we found brett and bosh stationed on a low roof next to some wide tall stairs leading into a building - in this spot on the roof they could get the attention of the folks entering the building - they were giving away tiny plastic figurines and they were serious about it. we couldn't get them excited about karaoke (not yet anyway) and they clearly weren't impressed that i had befriended will toledo. of course the dream ended before karaoke but i remember i was struggling to come up with a song - something i could belt for sure but what ?

as i was waking up i kept reminding myself of the name of the youtube channel that had something to do with both furry and car seat headrest. but it got blurrier and even half asleep i realized it made no sense. (carseatfurcon?) plus willikers was standing on my head.

now i really do have to get up and do the day. i should be leaving already to walk the dogs. i keep getting to them late and it makes the whole day feel shorter. i guess maybe no melatonin tonight?? but how does anyone sleep?!

dead

i don't want to be looking at a screen in this harsh light but i don't know what else to be doing. i want paper but i don't have it. i left everything in the other room and i don't want to interrupt brett and rex bonding and talking sex stuff bc i know it can't happen if i'm around. now it seems also i have the toots. so there you go. i don't know why i'm still awake. i mean i do but do i ? i've been sick and wanted to not. jeebers cries how many of these pitiful journals can i write. how do i know if i'm even alive.

my words feel so inadequate for what i mean to say