what we're not supposed to talk about by intricately-ordinary, literature
Literature
what we're not supposed to talk about
I could make a story out of
this. The blackout epiphanies
blinding me like a total eclipse
of any sense of rationality I ever
stole out from my parents' blind spots
when they turned the other way. The
boy I fell half in love with and
my therapist's unassuming questions
about why he was different, the way I
was never beautiful to him but he
still looked me in my bokeh eyes,
betraying and quiet, so that was enough.
My vain addiction to anything
permanently damaging and
more or less glamorous. The dreams
I can’t swallow no matter what shade
of delusion they come in, about
the imminent death of stars named
after deader lovers, and place
I have been drawing a lot more but it's all school stuff and I don't really want to upload that here because I'm not sure it fits in with what I want my DA page te be. So yeah, I have been making things and you're probably not going te see them, ever.
So I haven't been going outside much thanks to this stupid disease, it's a big difference from the summer and I don't really know how to entertain myself. I've been drawing a lot more (mostly schoolwork though) and using that as a distraction from everything. But I still get bored and feel awful because I'm tired all the time and my mood just drops in the evening.
But yeah, being bored at school all day makes me want to be creative at home which is good because I want to make things. Wanting to make things is a kind of inspiration too I guess.