I can’t breathe.
I’d like to think that I am breathing. But I’m not.
Maybe the fact that I can’t write is because I can’t think clearly.
I can’t think of how best to tell my story, there are so many universes, multiverses. Which one should I choose from? Which one sounds like me? Which one will sound like the me I would like to be? Which one will people understand? Why do people need to understand? Do I need to be validated? Am I writing just to be heard? Do I not have a voice? Do I have a voice? Can you h
This song says, “this time I come first”. Did I never come first? Whatever I did for you was for me, first. Maybe I should get high today, and get lost in my thoughts and fear that I will never come back. We always get there, to that line we feel we shouldn’t cross, and don’t cross(1). I won’t cross it, It’s easier here. Here is what I know.
We is not you, we is me and my friends. I met them this year and one night honestly thought to myself, “could this be the best time of my life?” I can’t speak of them in great detail, because even though I am trying to share, I hoard. I think what I appreciate most about these friends is that they allow space for this constant questioning, in between conversations and laughs, when we look at each other at that moment in-between, we both see each other standing there in an empty room, questioning the authenticity of the current interaction. Yes I’m laughing, but why am I laughing? It seems as though it manifests as glint in their eye, which is most likely true, which is most likely false. And I love how we tether on the edge of our reality, all the time. So that we (1) and never stay in one line of thought for too long. We move like tangled earphones in-between, inside and outside, forward and backwards, burrowing deep at one point, only to end up at the top of the soil, mangled.
When I write sometimes and I write with the person “I”. It is because I am talking about myself, as a singular human being bound to consciousness. And when I talk about we, what we want, I am speaking about the parts of that are connected to something more. I feel like, feels different from we feel like. We feel fine. I know what we want to do. I always know what we want to do, I just don’t know what I want I to do, and how to make I do it well. But it’s weird because we know. We know that it’s by listening to these things and feeling them is part of it. Allow yourself to be pulled into the beauty of the experience of your we. The world around you.
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