let them be happy

imagine my brain… like a tourist trap. with cheap gift shops, and a couple rollercoaster rides; the tracks encased in layers of neon rust.

imagine my skull like a dust bowl. forged from years without rain, as you build me up on blind trust, just to tear me down again. and i swear to god i’m gonna make it. but what price will i pay?

because i have to eat. i have to sleep. and i can’t just spend the rest of my life, fueled by desperate wanderlust. crafting a house of bone, and calling it a place to stay.

because it doesn’t matter. that when i was little, people were shitty. or that maybe i spent a little too much time alone. or how if i screamed loud enough, i always got my way. because maybe i’m just a broken fucking girl, okay?

just… let them go on. let them be happy. let them bask in their own normalcy, and pretend the world isn’t ending for just one more day...

The side affect of writing deadine-to-deadline, and very much teaching myself how to work on that last-minute kind of structure is that every week, I tell myself… this is the last time I’ll sacrifice my sleep schedule, or not leave the house for four days trying to finish a project, or procrastinate on something until those measures are necessary.

But it never is. I get so caught up in myopic, week-to-week things, that I lose sight of the bigger picture. Forget that I can’t just put my mental health and general sanity on hold forever. That you can’t create in a vacuum.

And as much as I love writing, it gets tiring after a while. Not the actual creative part, but the spending hours on a screen alone, and the constant vague stress of making sure I’m on top of everything at all times. Self promotion and social media and all that stuff.

I guess in a lot of ways, it’s just human nature, to automatically want to ignore the problem until the problem becomes a crisis, isn’t it? God. I need to figure things out. I need to take better care of myself, so I don’t feel so damn exhausted all the time.

It’s just… hard for me to look at all these beautiful things I could make, and still be able to turn it down for something as smal and insignificant as spending an afternoon at the beach.

Lots of love,


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