2019 was the year huh

2024 i leave everyone on read (the insomnia coach says i need to see a provider) (and there is an upcoming appointment cuz God needs me to see him again!?!) (is it him!?!) (what sort of Romeo/Joolie delusional fantasy have i found myself in exactly)

no one is – nor has – nor potentially ever – will do anything inappropriate (hence la la land)

but you know if looks could kill

looks can also have a “slow the atoms down in the room and shoot to heaven” vibe too

i mean, i don’t know how to read a room (or computer screen)

but he imprinted on me and apparently i have lost many months and/or years dreaming about him

would’ve been nice if we could’ve met on a conference call, or in any other way than me over here on the other side

nearly wearing a fucking straightjacket

welp

help. still in hell. *sadface*

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i’m not in / this isn’t happening

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SAME

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p.s. i have been trying to write a letter to myself of “what I would say to myself if I could call myself and speak to myself for one minute”

like your future self could call your past self from a decade ago (that is ten years right)

i tried to put it in a poem

it isn’t going very well

don’t hang up it’s me
i’m dying
find a tree
and hang freely

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