It seems all my adrenaline has worn out. There is no real cure or thing to do when you are grieving except well grieve. Sit in it. Reflect. Cry. Repeat. I have to say I have been owning the fuck out of my sadness. Not running away from it. It is really really tiring. Kinda love this snow as a excuse to hide in the cave eating processed cookies, smoking out windows, and refusing to put pants on. Pacing around your studio in the new shoes you could not afford, but could not resist because they were 40% off and you have been eyeing them since November.
November was not even that long ago but it feels like 100 years.
Looking back on travel diaries, dancing with headphones on.
Ignoring basic responsibilities like house cleaning or personal grooming
I keep having day dreams, but they are actual dreams from day naps, which you have to take a lot of.
Sometimes I say sorry
Sometimes I yell
Your fucking ruined my life, the life I dreamed of.
Sometimes I don't dream at all
But imagine what it feels like when this weight is lifted. That it has to happen at some point.
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