and now you’re alone again, you’re lighting cigarettes with the toaster because you can’t afford lighters and your lights are flickering but you don’t bother because life’s easier when you can’t see it coming. instrumentals that you don’t notice playing until you’re thirteen minutes in, and you notice how superstitious the world is and you wonder why people fear death. is it regret or fear that powers those men to look both ways before crossing the street? and now you’re thinking about death and you feel so overpowered by it, so overpowered by the fact that one day it’s going to be over and you’re going to rot and three hundred years from now no one will know who you are, who you were, what you did and what you had to show for it. the loves that grab you by surprise and knock you down won’t mean more than a twig on a long line of geneology. your heart is as fragile as your bones which are as fragile as the pale skin stretched over them. it’s hard, knowing something like that and moving on every day as if it doesn’t matter and it isn’t approaching, but it is and you can’t help but wonder about the children that carry on a name unlike the one you spent a majority of your life comfortably wearing like some kind of soft, protective coating of your Self and what it means to be You. life is a ticking time bomb, and while you sit there in the dark basking in a projection of it you come to realize just how imperfect and trivial you are. they can’t see you from the moon, and you can’t see the footprints of the men who will forever remain in history books. embrace it.
i’ll type this up soon enough