ice, wind, freedom
She inhaled, then said, “Today when we were standing in the aisle, I caught the scent of it. You smelt so nice. What is it called again?”
I don’t know what my hands are doing. Muscle memory to me is like scent memory. Everything comes rushing back.
I’ve been picking up the guitar a lot lately. Re-learning all those songs I loved to play, but better. It’s muscle memory, my fingers pick up the beat and all of a sudden, it’s like no time has passed.
Like no time has passed. My hands have muscle memory. So it’s been awhile but I don’t have to think about what to do or how I should do it. My hands know. And I become confident in my abilities if only for a brief moment of time in comparison with the rest of my existence.
I said, “Matterhorn.”
The other night in the lab I laughed harder than I have in over a year. I remember specifically the last time I laughed as hard as I did. It has been over a year. I laugh a lot. But there are a lot of meaningless laughs in my life. I think I used to crack up a lot more than I do now, and I’m not sure if that has to do with stress level or overall well-being in your life.
I laughed with a human being. My stomach hurt.
It’s hard to find someone you can do that with. It’s something I took for granted a long time ago. It’s been so long that I can say, “a long time ago” because all I know now is here. It’s living here. And everything else I worked so hard to forget is something that happened to a different person. It wasn’t me.
It isn’t me.
there are cracks between the concrete, that we will all fill up with time.
I’m trying to be better. The last 4 days of R&R have done me good. I don’t feel as hopeless. Couple more weeks, and then it’s winter break.
I’m trying to focus on what’s important.
But video games make me happy, not homework.
My clothes smell different.
And my feet were warm last night.
I made coffee this morning.
And now I’m home.
"What’s wrong with you?"
It was cold out. I stepped away. I never believe in anything.
I couldn’t hold a cigarette. I couldn’t hold a cigarette.
I’ve been thinking about being underwater,
feeling the pressure of water against my skin,
crushing my bones.
And not so suddenly, gradually,
just like drowning,
I’ve been wanting to inhale.
The water, it’d fill me up.
The way nothing here can.
Drugs are a poor substitute, but I’ve been tryin. Or maybe I haven’t.
And I don’t really want to.
Fell asleep with an aching. It’s been a year since I wished “I want it to be a year from now”, and I find myself wishing the same damn thing.
To be continued (or not).
I couldn’t hold my cigarette. American Spirits though, they burn slow.
I just have zero interest
sweet lord. the second photo though.
Scorpio Zodiac Facts
I satiated aching lungs with the illusion of substance, the opaque faint glow of smoke. When you exhaust inhaling the abyss, you settle for smoke. At least then, there exists some warmth.