And though I am cryin' and bleedin' and barely breathin'
I can't let go of your heart

I want to be close to you
But I don't know what to do
'Cause if we are near to through
It may make it worse
And if I start to grieve
'Cause it feels you're 'bout to leave
Forgive me, I'm not naïve
I've been here before
So, won't you please spare me indignity?
And won't you please give me some decency?
And won't you please call it, if our time is through?
'Cause I know that we fall apart, when nothing's new
Nothing's new

I think I could have been a great lover. I'm not talking about sex in particular. actually I think today's world is so cut up on it that it has lost it's meaning. in today's hookup culture sex is almost as empty as masturbating under your blanket before sleep. a very lonely feeling. I'm talking about washing someone's back in the bathtub. bending over for tying them shoes laces in the rain while they are holding an umbrella above your head. putting my cold feet between their legs to get them warm. dying ones hair. pulling out their white hairs. kissing their palms gently and them ending up holding your face in between. shaving them face. blowing into their eyes when an eyelash has fallen in. I don't want to just make your dick hard. I want to be remembered by your eyes as the wind. knowing that we won't last together forever but even for a year, I had a trace on the nature while passing on to your body. intimacy is dead at the very least just for me and I fucking hate it.

it pains me how much i hurt myself trying to exist peacefully.

📼 Last Night in SoHo - 2021

I know someday I'm gonna meet her, it's a fever dream
The kind of radiance you only have at 17
She'll know the way, and then she'll say she got the map from me
I'll say I'm happy for her, then I'll cry myself to sleep

I've had too much to drink tonight
But I wonder if they'll miss me once they drive me out
I wake up in the middle of the night
And I can feel time moving
How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?

I could feel his eyes as I returned to my bike. And I wanted it, for his gaze to fix me to the world I felt only halfway inside of.

- Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

از کپیتالیسم متنفرم چون امروز یکسره داشتم کار می‌کردم و درس می‌خوندم در حالیکه من برای زندگی در طبیعت و گیلاس از درخت خوردن آفریده شدم.

«جعبه‌ی پاندورا در واقع یه جعبه نیست، یه شیشه‌ست. پاندورا هدیه‌ی خدایان به اپیمتئوس بود، به عنوان همسرش. به پاندورا گفته شده بود که تحت هیچ شرایطی در این شیشه رو باز نکنه. اما یه روز از سر کنجکاوی، شیشه رو می‌شکنه. با شکستن شیشه، تمام بدی‌ها و مصیبت‌های ممکن از توی ظرف خارج می‌شن‌. بعد از اینکه تمام این بدی‌ها راهشونو به دنیا پیدا کردن، آخرین چیزی که ته ظرف می‌مونه، امیده.
من هیچوقت نفهمیدم باید چه برداشتی از این قضیه داشته باشم. می‌تونی به امید به عنوان تنها باقی‌مونده‌ از چیزهای فوق‌العاده، خالص و مایه‌ی خوشحالی توی این دنیا نگاه کنی، همزمان هم می‌تونی به چشم آخرین ظلم خدایان به انسان ببینی‌ش. بعد از اینکه هر بلای ممکنی رو سر ما آوردن، فقط برای اینکه اوضاع رو یه کمی بدتر کنن، بهمون امید رو هم دادن.»

—نیل گیمن، از یک مصاحبه در یوتوب که یادم نمیاد چی بود.

9pm depression is hitting.