03.01.22
19:00
The end of yesterday was all fever and yellow gatorade and alone in my bedroom and asleep in my underwear. I didn't laugh when the clock struck midnight, didn't kiss anybody, didn't cry. Didn't drink champagne or call my ex or write down a list of swear-I'll-do-it-differently-this-time's. Didn't pledge to get better or more organized. I let the sick burn all the way through me, let my body turn my bones to matchsticks. I thought of all the ways I didn't change last year and all the ways I wish I had. I guess what I'm trying to say is time doesn't change anything. Or maybe time changes everything and I'm just not green enough on either side of the fence. But. There will be newness, and it will be good, and better, and bad, and worse, and my arms will be open and open and open and open.
/// twice in a day, are you guys impressed or sum?