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The enormity of this task is absolutely flattening me.

Eliminate dust? Eliminate dirt and the air? I have a headache just thinking about it

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Peircing scream

I got very distressed tonight bc I couldn’t see the moon when I expected to see it.

So full and bright. The one thing that is always there for me

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i feel like everything is incredibly loud right now, though there is very little actual sound

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I don’t want to sleep when I know fleas are in here it’s like torture. And I feel like everything I do is spreading them around

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One thing about drawing is that it’s soo gratifying. I can write for an hour and the story is unfinished and I feel less skilled than when I started (even though that’s patently untrue). I draw a picture and it feels like I’m really palpably developing my skills. Immediately i can see the change!

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!!!!!!!!!!!! I want to have a tantrum!!! I want all my stuff to go back in my drawers!!! I want to get this trap off the ground!! I want to stop POURING lavender oil in my hair and making my hair greasy!! I want to stop sleeping in head to toe clothes! I want to open my new neck supporting pillow without being afraid fleas will get in it!!! I’m fucking done!

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Well i know i wanted to be consistently healed. Like i wanted to make sure that all the hurt in me was addressed at my pace. I think that’s what i meant by trials.

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I thought about what i had written with getting back together w Daren in mind- like how could we even move forward from here & “proving” it through trials or something and that feels wrong and I know it. Trials don’t make sense to me- I didn’t even mean it like that but

I don’t know. Maybe there was no way and i just was trying to make one.

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It’s okay to be you

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Pain & running

Taking myself up

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So disconnected from myself

I feel like my soul is floating somewhere around me waiting for me to reattach to it and I can’t because I have to go to work and ask someone if they want spicy mayo on their roll or something

Trying to pin down that bitch like Peter Pan and his shadow

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I think about how this is edited just in case you’re reading it.

I hate that! Of course you’re not reading it

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In bad last night I was trying to go to sleep and was thinking of you. I tried to remember how it felt against your chest so I could fall asleep.

But this time when I did there was something wrong. I must’ve been half dreaming because you were dead against my body. Your skin was cold and pale. I looked up to see your face, but I couldn’t, it was like it was out of frame.

At least there’s no subtlety to this metaphor. You’re gone and you’re not coming back

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I keep thinking I can tell you things this way. the fleas, your dad. but I can't. you don't know. you're somewhere else

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I dreamt I met your dad last night. We were in a kitchen that looked like mine in hayward. He helped me take little mats out of saoirse's hair. I told him how she was probably under the bed all day because she's scared of the fireworks.

two more comments and he was gone

I hope he liked me

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Imagining you at the party calms me. I picture you there and how everyone would love you.

And see your face, laughing with the guys. They’ve gotten to know you a little better now that Terence and I have lived here for a while. I get to watch you talk to them about sports or food. Or how rocky is from Guam and you’re Samoan.

And you’ll play with Kaya because I know kids always take to you right away

And then we’re spent, even though fireworks are still going off and we go up to my room, lying there hearing everyone still talking downstairs. & fall asleep on my bed together, still in our clothes, holding each other