Hell Yea

lately i've been really grappling with the pain of not being able to do everything. of growing older and letting the window of time in which i COULD have done something lapse. i can no longer have started something before the age of 19. i can no longer claim to have loved something i start loving now since childhood. i can't dance for my career for the rest of my life, i have to choose whether i give up being a stem major for the rest of my life within the next two weeks, i am long past the point at which i could have done anything but the things i am currently involved in for all four years of college. i'm terrified that if i go back to things i used to do i wont be as good at them as i used to be. the time for that would have been the second i left. how different my life would have looked!! would i still have lived with the people i do now?? would i still have done the things i did this year? i'm grieving my inability to have a foot in the door of timelines i'm not in, of only having the feet i can stand on in this one. i don't know how to let an opportunity get by me. i cling to as many as i can get my hands on despite knowing i would enjoy each more if i spent less effort clinging to the lot; i mourn each that squirms its way out of my desperate grip, grieving one less egg in my nest. when i am gone what will remain??? what legacy will i leave behind???? i won't know; i'll be dead. so all that i can do is gather as much of life as i can in my grip, and every inch of it that escapes me is a little death of its own. HOW DO YOU COPE.

(may 18???)

No I don't care to please you

I'll dye my hair

And peirce my face

And dress weird

And wear big glasses

Because why would I care

If you care

I'll say what I want

And write what I want

And listen to what I want

And believe in what I want

I still wasn't over you when I walked out those doors. It really is dawning on me, now, in my bed, in the dark. That today, this day, would be the last I would see you. I'll look for you in everyone I meet, it's a curse and a promise.

I want to become a Mandela Effect. Delete my account, delete all posts. Have no trace I existed, but everyone swears I did

I hope we never stop being friends

I would really like to move to Amsterdam with you

And ride bikes to markets

And walk in parks

And listen to records and play chess

When we talk I forget the nightmares

And when we talk I don't remeber how sad I am for a bit

Your haikus are my favorite time of the day

And the fleeting feeling I get from writing what's on my mind getting it out like a cleanse like I'm vomiting up all the bottled up things I wanted to say to you after being sick for so so long the coldness of your embrace or rather your lack thereof one will fade with the warm summer weather and the flowers blooming in my grandmother's backyard the wrinkles on her hands remind me of the passing time I'll never see the wrinkles on your hands someone else will I'll never see the ring on your hand but I hope it's glistening like the light in your eyes when you mention music