boxtraffic

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the witness

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a spider woke me up so i decided to get out of bed early thanks dude

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it happened again. i didn’t know Karen was dead yet. i thought it was the universe. timing, i learned it was her day 1 or 2 on the other side. she came to me with such powerful love. i felt so much love and joy, it had me sobbing. i felt held. i felt loved. i thanked out loud.

it happened again

Linda’s second day. i wasn’t able to cry for a while. then she came to me in the most love. she was sad and sorry and loved me. i sobbed joy and pain and heartbroken love. i told her i love you too, i love you too, endlessly. it stays. it never leaves. but please, i have to be strong. i let it out and let her be here. i can’t be too sad. help me be strong. we’re in this together now. i felt the relief. she just wanted to tell me she’s sad, but she has nothing to be sad about now, i love you too.

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what’s up inactive grave of shit i don’t want to look at anymore?

you’re a beautiful bitch don’t forget it. you will eventually kind of forget, not forget like not remember, just that thing you do when you move on from the power. when all that creativity rushes in again, it’s great. just think how much clearer you’ll be, how unbearable you are without inspiration. my guy, read a fucking book. that’s been the key before, right? makes you think, right? the story hits different. fuck an art critic alright? they’re a fucking appraisal machine. a book, to you, is special. that feeling you get, the thoughts that come in, the gears that start turning are so rare! no chance in hell someone gets it the same. no chance. what it means to another is the cool part. right there is some connection: you saw that, right? you felt that, right? to be able to trust i am feeling the same. that’s nuts. maybe that’s what love is like. i mean love, jesus fuck of course that’s the same alright. on that alright, go the fuck to sleep. stories are great. people’s lives are amazing. let’s go to bed.

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“Because a song can take you back instantly to a moment, or a place, or even a person. No matter what else has changed in you or the world, that one song stays the same, just like that moment. Which is pretty amazing, when you actually think about it.”

— Sarah Dessen

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Andrew Wyeth, Clouds and Shadow, 1940, Watercolor on paper

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Eden

For #PrideMonth2021 ♥️💛💚💙💜🥰

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That was all a little much. Stop that grow up pick yourself up it’s you that you need not anyone else. You need you.

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Help. Me. Help me. Me help me. I help me

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Chest exploding

Energy filling up to my eyes and pouring out

How do I do this can I do this

When will I just do this

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This is blank

out on a limb

my feet far enough

to catch the next

reaching

scrambling

is it clear enough ahead

to become smaller behind

to eclipse what I left

to blossom why

those seeds will inherent

strength to decipher

what I never could

a softer gene

of pain

though eventually only sight of it

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3 am

No this is not acceptable

Yes it was yesterday

No please don’t climb up my sleeve like an ant

Not yet at least

Wait a minute if you could

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Can I go on forever

Thinking this

No but I might try

Who is it

Trying

Thinking

In whoever I am

Whatever I think I am

Who am I thinking whatever of who or whatever

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Why is this so confusing and heart breaking some times then completely normal to follow

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100%! This is insane.

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You’re actually probably maybe 80% asshole

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suffocating