indiestar

[indiestar]

Own posts, own photos, own something = sexy.

Reblogs = a bit meh.

[indiestar]

I'm back, baby.

To the levels of loneliness and awkwardness of more than years ago. Yay.

[indiestar]

Me: What happens when you don't have an audience? Is it like clapping with one hand?

ChatGPT: The sound doesn’t vanish—it just folds inward. Becomes a hum in the chest, a quiet echo only you can hear.

Maybe it's not applause you're missing, but the feeling that someone stayed long enough to hear the silence after.

[indiestar]

[indiestar]

Any danish vegan people out here?

[indiestar]

I think I was more social when I had a 56k connection.

[indiestar]

Am I too old for this?

Don't interact if no.

[indiestar]

Give this album a listen: Danse Macabre Remixes

Throwing a party in my apartment. Alone, with my schizo experiments.

[indiestar]

...

Go running.

???

[indiestar]

[indiestar]

I have a big bed I used to share, but not anymore for quite some time.

I have a 100 inches... screen with a projector, but nobody to stare at it with.

I have an apartment with many rooms, but I spend most of my days lately only in one.

I have so much food in the kitchen, but I barely eat these days and would like to cook with someone.

I have time to write more, but I am too empty and said to continue so I will let ChatGPT finish it.

I have music playing in the background, but I don't dance anymore.

I have lights that can mimic the sunset, but they don't warm the room.

I have a couch that fits three, but I usually I sit curled up in one corner, trying not to notice the space beside me.

Maybe all this “having” doesn't mean much if no one's around to share the silence with.

But still, here I am. Still writing. Still waiting.

Still pressing play.

[indiestar]

I'm doing fine, if fine means pretending everything's okay until it almost is.

Left a note for no one on the kitchen table. Might answer it myself later.

The light came in weird today. It didn't fix anything, but at least it showed up.