i know the drill: self control.
if my life is just one ridiculous attempt to be alive, maybe i'm winning.
i can fend for myself.
my love is perennial, but i'm not that patient.
waiting for when i remember, i need to remember.
i need to wash my hair more often.
i should try answering the phone. I was sifting through some old writings today from what seems like a self completely unrelated to the present version of me, feelings I'd forgotten and weights I thought I'd never drop, all which I felt honestly and fully and held as truth at the time. I read them, I saw them apart from myself, I saw myself from the height I've grown to instead of from the dirt. I read them and felt like lazy summer afternoon sunlight, I felt like the excitement of running through nighttime streets, I felt like waking up dreamily and having the freedom to get up or just keep sleeping and the peace of not having to decide immediately, I felt like getting a voicemail from a missed voice. I was young, I am still, I've gotten more second chances than most, and God, I'm so grateful to exist presently alongside the most incredible collection of misfits imaginable. My vision is colored by the prismatic souls that surround me, the view from here is just too good, and I swear I can see forever.