i light a candle in broad daylight; listen to songs from the early 2010s, that always make me feel like a kid again. not that it ever does me good. but it feels nice, and if the world has to slow down to nothing, i guess i got what i asked for. and that’s fine.

so i make breakfast for the next few days, with the sun high in the sky. and it feels like i haven’t been outside in years, somehow. but that’s all right, it’s only sunday.

or is it saturday? i lose track all the time. and this is how it happens. how i fade into obsolescence; nothing more than a ghost story for disobedient children.

because i didn’t want the ground to even; i didn’t want to hold hands. i wanted to be sequestered, far away from the world in a tower, with bars on the window.

to remove myself from this narrative altogether, and live comfortably from 70 feet above the ground, where no one can hurt me, right? but no matter how hard i try, the holes in my logic will still follow me home.

and i know i can’t stay here forever. logically. but… god, i want to. where the birds sing, and the tornado always seems to just barely stay away. where my actions are mine alone, and i can scream as loud as i want to, rip myself to shreds all day.

but the door is open. and the world awaits, not far behind this wall i’ve always known. and i think… i think i’m ready. think i want to feel the spring surround me, smell the flowers, and let their thorns prick me, if they have to.

let my heart pound, let the wind rage. and let this feeling hold strong, and steady, for the rest of my days.

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