feel. just what you feel. stop being afraid of the noise. do you want to miss her now. or just keep it there a while longer. this avoidant behavior lately.

stop trying to sculpt it, you can’t have it both ways.

stop being afraid of the fucking noise. have some tea.

ahhh, tired. when you slow it down, it really draws out slow, the jitteriness sometimes I can do without. what if it doesn’t mean anything to anyone. that’s why you put it out there, really. because that makes it brave. nudity isn’t brave when you’re all alone.
how to live, the little invisible choices we’re always making.
eventually, before we realized it, they define us. when is a choice not a choice? when it’s too little, too often, too quick. when you can’t see it for choosing it always, so reflexively. it becomes the ground, not the figure, the background against which you work.
glasses on your nose.
damn.

occasionally I worry if I still have the strength, but the worry feels manufactured, it’s ‘something I should take under consideration’, not a heart-worry. it may well be slow and I don’t know that it will be as dramatic as the early ones—well. I’m thirty. it's ok.