senescence

i don’t want to do much of anything, i guess. waking up from dreams i don’t remember in a puddle of sweat. and these days, it seems like everyone is just so happy. so why can’t i forget?

as the tide drowns out any sense of morality i used to possess. but it was nice while it lasted. a pastel blue sky, and my pink flower-girl dress….

so just keep going. even if you don’t know why. even if you can’t fucking stand to. because you’re getting older. and you are not immune to the wear and tear of time against you.

so i mumble a desperate prayer, fighting off the rose bower with a pocketknife. my fingers stained with morning dew…

just give me a second. and i’ll be there. ready to live out the best four years of my life, or whatever… beside you.


I’ve been struggling a lot of late with how normal the people around me have been acting, as we gradually come out of quarantine. My mom said that opening up is a lot harder than closing down emotionally–and I think that’s true.

It’s like, I’ll be seeing my friend, and for once in my lifetime not be so worried about this stuff. We will snuggle and watch a baking show, and go for long walks in the forest. And then, maybe we decide to go for a coffee or something, and it just all slams into me again. That things are not normal. Despite how much I want them to be.

Her mom was driving the other day, and she turned on the CBC news on the radio–which happened to be a report about the second wave, and I almost cried. I didn’t fully calm down until, like, two days later. We were going to the beach–and it was supposed to be a fun day, or whatever. But the whole time, I just felt like shit.

I don’t understand how other people can hear about the possibility of another lockdown happening again–without breaking down. Without feeling like it’s happening all over again; seeing the colour leech out around you, as all the things you missed so desperately are pulled away in an instant. And you’re left, as always–sitting at home. Alone.

I have found that wearing a mask helps. Like, genuinely–I’m not trying to sell you on wearing one, although in places where you can’t maintain social distance you definitely should–it just makes me feel better. It’s irrational, but if I know I’m doing all the things I’m supposed to, and often even going overboard and wearing one in situations where it’s really not required–like walking down the sidewalk or whatever, I feel in some small way in control of what’s going to happen next. (Even though I’m, but at least it takes the self-loathing out of the equation.) (Also, I have this really cute mask that makes me feel super pretty and put together whenever I wear it, which might also help.)

As I’ve said before, I know there are lot worse things happening than, and I hope this post doesn’t come off entitled or anything like that. (And I apologize if it does.) But I just wanted to get some of these thoughts out of my head and onto the page.

Lots of love,

dragonwritesthings

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