diamond boy
avoidance is my favorite drug
here’s the thing, i am aloof.
i just am. and only because i am also so friendly. i don’t mince words. or facial expressions. and i am honest to a fault, except i haven’t been. lately. which means i haven’t been myself. which i keep saying. but let be known, it comes back to this. depression. i can’t believe it! don’t want it! not mine! not me! so much so!? how much so?! i don’t need these!!!!!!!
i’m not always kind either. and i can poke and poke back too. but i don’t mean to. not always. and i don’t need to have remorse or shame, but while the living live, you can say the thing and change the course. especially if you remember some parts. like when seeing my tattoo encouraged her to get one. but she hasn’t yet, so maybe i should take her. and encourage her to get the thing she wants. while she’s here. because i can imagine, it’s been difficult for her too. whatever, you know the person. the thing they need. how you can be kinder. do it.
“move like love does” i mean in this life. “let online be practice for what you do in your real world” and if you do not feel connected to your real world, you need to use your hands. use your body. and make a life. you need to build a life. it does not just build itself. it’s like SIMS. it’s like drawing. it’s like make up. it’s like chess. get back in your person. this online shit is fake. the ❤️ is a dopamine hit made so easily accessible that you actually loose the ability to forge for that feeling outside of your phone. trust me. listen to me! i do it often. and i cut it like cold turkey. #7 jersey mikes. get it before it goes. how can a ❤️ feel better than a hug? i’ll tell you how, attention, validation…that shit’s a drug. when’s the last time you let your human body fully come in contact with the one in front of you? not to the side, not just arms, but their chest to your chest. her breast to your breast. your heart to their heart.
put the phone away i have been begging myself to do for months. years…but, but, but, i chime in… i found poetry on there, and my boyfriend, and my dog, and my good friends. and my grandma’s figured it out, so i’m trying to keep her entertained too. i won’t know anyone’s birthday. and my photo’s from middle school, would be gone. i might miss a distress call from my teenage sister or a major event that i wasn’t invited to at all. so be it…so be it… we weren’t meant to ingest or remember, all of these thoughts, and opinions and people. i even give you a break from mine! think for yourself. be yourself. no matter what that entails. i send too many updates. or not enough. i don’t know. i keep wishing i was a fairy. which gets kind of hairy. but i mean just in the way i wish it was just acceptable to love when i feel and everyone believe that it goes nowhere. but people are complicated. me included. me especially. i don’t know what i want until i want it, but i’ve known it all along. i play too many fucking games. and i hate playing games. i am concerned that i just do everything to get a laugh. but what’s really wrong with that? i know i said i was going to stop sharing plans, but i can’t stop writing jokes. i’m walking around my condo writing bits. i need to record this. i swear to god, i am so funny, i believe i could have a Netflix special.
i think the most intelligent people are funny. and not just book smart. i mean emotionally. watch a comedy show. they know what’s appropriate and what’s not. watch Bottoms. it’s queer, apocalyptic, and hot. they know how painful it is to be alive, and they alchemize it. i got out for the first time and i told my friend, i understand Anthony B and Robin W and i laughed like the fucking Joker. fuck. the truth came out shortly after. depression. i said it was like astrology. we’re all Cancers. so i get it. to be mother without child is no small feat. once i think I know what it’s like to be a man who kills himself, which i don’t it’s because i’m not saying the true thing. “you’re not going into a depression, are you?” my mother asked back in ??? i’m losing track of time again. god damn. watch out for the fool who can’t take a joke. watch out for the jokester who keeps trying to make a joke out of you. even, if that’s you. don’t joke about your life until you love it enough to keep it. trust your trust. and just because it’s scary doesn’t mean it’s unreal. i’m afraid of love because love has scared me! it’s turned me from aijah to bonnie and clyde. and from aijah to a psycho bitch about to jump out the car. from aijah to a bloody witch. from aijah to considering buying a switch. i am made of love and i scare me! i am made of love and i still tried to make love without love. i’m impulsive and crazy and i prefer to be that way! but sometimes it’s not fair to me. who needs stability in the end. and in the end, i just need to…
thank you for being here. all is well <3