im back on the pen.
fuck.
i missed you more intensely than i ever have today. for a few minutes
memories.
i know im fine.
why am i playing this character?
the pen.
im so dramatic, internal, dark, self-pitying.
the pen.
ugh, fuck.
but i dont want to be in control right now.
was i feeling too in control for the past few weeks? is that even a thing?
yeah, totally.
i need to let the monkey out.
but, for me, the monkey is this dark piece —
this demon.
just coming out to play.
does the depression come before or after the pen?
fuck.
im lower than i thought.
i sleep as long as i can. i dont care to move forward.
fuck, ive been here before.
i get lost. i get lost in not caring. i dont want to be in control bc its so. fucking. hard. all the time. to be in control. its so hard. im so tired.
but right now im coasting.
i want to hit a bottom — not the bottom, but a bottom. a low. i want to find it. i want to bask in it. i want to focus on being beautiful. i want to feel the pain in every pore. i want to be hopelessly immersed in feeling the rawness.
ill find my way out. when i want to.
