So, this is what this is.
A neverending purgatory or limbo.
I don’t want to acknowledge that this time exists. I just want it… not to be what it was… but a different version of what it was. The thing that I remember.
I don’t know what this is.
I just know that it’s a dull ache. I don’t like it.
Sometimes one forgets because it’s so dull.
This is why I drive to the bright though dark rich maroon of my own blood; this why I stare as the needle pierces the skin… then the basilic vein.
I need color, vibrancy… I need something.
God, this sounds like every 15 year old cutter’s manifesto.
But 15 was eight thousand years ago. And cut I do not. And I like things. And not just things that categorically “hurt”.
I like to smile. I have a brilliant smile. dimples and all.
and it’s almost 2009. It’s actually 2009 in New York. On 23rd Street.
My hair is different.
Please just calm any buzzing in any brain right now. and just try to absorb. and be cool.
I like odd numbers. 9, though curvy is odd.
I guess it just depends how you write it.
Happy New Year!