in the middle of the april highlights
i wonder what this really means. all my strange blurry dreams.
i’ve started thinking again. but for some reason, i recognize how my discourse, the way i argue my points sound so emotional.
speaking with someone stuck in his highding place, i’ve begun to think about blurry.
and how in awakenings, they talked about the stillness, the catatonia of the patients was an extreme form of palsy. like things vibrate so much that it looks solid.
maybe that’s what you are dear.
i’ve been staring at my nails, like pretty is such a novelty.
and been bingeing on crime shows.
it has been said that february has always been the cruelest month. my dad has echoed this statement.
but i’ve always thought that april was my cruelest month. i always find myself longing for someone during holy week. it was the month when i found out my mom had cancer, and the month when i realized that she may actually die. it was the month i languished because i had lost my job because i made the mistake of fighting someone in power. it was the month when i got drunk and talked on and on and on and on and on.
being caught up in practical matters, i haven’t recognized that i might just be hormonally emotional. but i think i cry at almost anything anyway.
but my pretty fingers are beginning to string my soft and white scar daisy chain.