I keep thinking like my struggles are poignant. But there is nothing important in a man who can't climb walls and doesn't want to walk around them anymore. Who wants to read about a man who can't fight? Who even wants to write about a person like that.

Requiting Stomachs

I wonder why the stomach churns at the thought of unrequited love. As if stagnant longing is so repulsive it makes you sick.

Maybe it's the feeling of heart strings being severed. Or maybe it's just a thought so incomprehensible that surely it must be a hallucination brought on by something you ate.

Whatever it is, it's terrible.

A Summer Sigh

Clicking on stale links, I'm always hoping my connection will help me overcome this loneliness. And it only makes sense these days, when I've never felt lonelier in this town, in this season.

This college has never made for a good home, all while my choices simultaneously sundered whatever feeling of place I had somewhere else. Sometimes I think I should be a nomad. Most of the time I'm too scared to be adventurous though.

I wish there was more to say, maybe a hopeful flip, but these are purely dark and simple matters. One day I won't be alone in a wasteland.

Spiders and Dictionarys

Maturity strikes; I'm another person now. One who can take things in stride, and bottle up the injustice of the world. Who would have thought an emotional recluse would be able to do something like that?

Everyone has their demons, it's how one decides to face them that defines 'em. I don't know if there's any meaning in a definition though.