We can get used to anything, it seems

But I fear not waking up. I fear the dreary and unconscious descent into numbness, even/especially when it’s masked by a pretention of being something nice, something good, huh. I fear (triads are cool okay) not being slapped or stung or splashed or burned.. I fear not waking up.

Walked out of the REW thing today crying because I couldn’t stand (ha ha so funny) and I figured I was the only one sitting and felt so small. Sat and stood and leaned on the flaking paint and saw green and cried and prayed and secretly hoped someone would find me in my corner and sort me out because I didn’t know how any more but my secret hopes are called as such because they are ridiculous and never come true, walked back in and smiled and laughed ha ha double faaaake

Epiphanic moment on the staircase later and wondering what would happen if epiphanies just stopped coming one day.

Sorry if I’m slipping into angsty and vague teenage tendencies like bad-grammar-is-poetic-and-artistic-ness.

I’m a bit lost

Dear God,
please, please
would you find me?


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