like, i'm aware that i'm here. and i can feel my elbows and my ankles giving me hell and it's not like i don't believe that i'm real, right? i can still feel cold.
but that's it? that's entirely it and i haven't got anything else in my head? i don't know how to answer that question, how are you feeling. i'm not. like yes i'm tired. i guess maybe it's not so much that i'm going to pass out and crash into a phone pole. and i'm bored, but not the engulfing kind that prompted me to draw all over my hands for the past four years. i'm just a bit restless, right, shaking my knees. like, i'm not impervious okay. i "have emotions". ha, you know quotation marks always make me think of that bo burnham joke.
'i'm not a "normal person" okay. i don't "use quotations correctly". '
but like where's the lie? i use so many filler words in my writing and i swear it's more than real life, and everything is more than real life. i'm kind of here, ten times less than real, trying to be honest. trying to relearn how to be straightforward and not cover all this with needlessly flowery writing. so what? i mean i feel nothing deeply, not disappointment or triumph. it didn't happen all at once, result of some trauma. it was a gradual fade, til i got colder than i thought the change of seasons would let me. what's with that? it's not a problem exactly so i don't need to fix it. my state of being is just 'here'. that's all i've got for you. i don't know where i'm going and i can't remember where i've been and maybe i'm just lost. maybe i'm just lost.
