writing down the bones alone/ with the aid of poets and songwriters. a place to be safe in a unsafe world. kat finley
I'm listening to Noah Kahan.
I'll call your mom.
I'm so lonely sometimes.
I've stayed high for four days after something traumatic happened.
I don't know much but I know I cannot continue living this way for much longer.
I have music moods like most.
At current I feel a big mood, something vast buy also enveloping and nearly overwhelming. Hozier.
Thank God for music. And dogs.
Two words that resonate with grief for me: wail and howl.
Today I'm listening to Sufjan Stevens and wishing for connection.
It's dumb to wish if I don't do anything about it. It's just scary and I have been trying. I just need to try harder.
Feeling nothing in particular.
Detached, floating above this mess that is my life.
Fuck everyone.
the bird that I found outside today. my heart.
My life is residue dissolving bone with feathers poking through. Worms wriggling beneath the pot containing my decaying heart.
Fuck you god for having me find this. I'm too gentle for this existence.