it is really hard to get dressed in the morning when i didnt have to for three days.

i dont have any boys anymore who will swim to me like turtles

do i know anything about myself

eating rice. finally, solid food.

on tuesday night before i got sick, i listened to the people’s key on full blast with this new boy in my mom’s car and his legs practically hit the windshield and i didn’t like the highlighter yellow shirt he wore and i’m only talking about it now because i realize i am rarely happy and in that moment, i thought i could have been.

it’s june first. i didn’t think of it before but now i do; june first, you came home, bright and sunny and perfect and great; all the adjectives no one wants to hear, but everyone wants to be described as. 

i wish i could use today as a mourning period. but i’m already out of my sickness shell, up and walking around, battling off the few hours i have left before i must interact with the world and find an inner peace.

i should do yoga. i should write a letter. i should stay still and silent and celibate for the next six months. i should stop it all together.

why do young boys even try to make their bodies perfect? old age will ruin them anyway.

i love my friends, how many times do i say that in a moment?

i’m going to go wash my work shirt and all of my summer dresses that have unidentifiable stains on them