Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water. And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes you cannot even breathe deeply, and the night sky is no home, and you have cried yourself to sleep enough times that you are down to your last two percent, but nothing is infinite, not even loss. You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day you are going to find yourself again."
Breathe deeply. Oxygenate every cell in your body. Look around. See the beauty. See the people. Admire the way they move. Life is good.
"I no longer have the energy for meaningless friendships, forced interactions or unnecessary conversations. If we don’t vibrate on the same frequency there’s just no reason for us to waste our time. I’d rather have no one and wait for substance than to not feel someone and fake the funk."
At some point you have to just stop. Because it’s just stupid to throw yourself at someone who isn’t ready to catch you.
Humans really are too much for me when I’m not good. Why? I don’t know. It’s the accountability, I think. I don’t want to explain myself. I can’t. How can I?
We’re in between something and it’s chaotic and strange, and fuck we just feel like we need to sleep for 100 years and then begin again. It’s not the beginning, neither the end, we’re right in the middle. And it’s windy and it’s cold, and the weather can’t make up it’s fucking mind, just like we can’t make up our own. And sometimes there is nothing to do but wait it out, just wait, and melt, and surrender, and be warm, so that we can shed these old layers and then wake up new. There’s nothing to do, but wait. And go through it, and feel it, and sit with it, for as long as it takes.
We’re amidst transition.