Life is not great. Sometimes life is a steaming pile of shit and it’s hard to find any good in the world at all. But then there is you.
You’re the reason people climb mountains. The reason people make buildings higher and higher. You’re the reason that singers voices can be so sweet. Not you specifically. But the idea of you. The inkling of something that is so much bigger than themselves. That is a cultivation of their whole lives to get to that one moment of perfection. You’re that for me. You make me want to be a better person. You are living breathing shitting proof that I didn’t completely fuck up my entire life. I can’t imagine a world where you’re not in it. You’re crazy dinosaur noises or your panting hard breathing type of excitement only you can get. I don’t understand how someone can be as perfect and lovely as you are.
I want the words I speak to be poetic. I want them to have meaning.
I just end up sounding like a spiteful petulant child.
I can’t stop because there is this feeling in my gut. There is this fire.
I feel completely different. Or maybe this person has been inside me this whole time.
I am so angry.
There is so much heat in my head and my heart I feel like I will be keeping Indiana warm all winter long.
And I don’t know why.
I have just become bitter. My days have become dreading the limits of my mortality and wishing I was dead.
Because I don’t recognize this shell I am.
There is a stranger when I look at myself in the mirror.
I look so sad, and so angry.
It’s this humbling dreadful feeling.
When you realize you will never amount to anything.
When you realize everything will eventually end.
When you realize everyone will eventually leave.
If I was them, I would leave me too.