Expect Nothing.

A lot of the time, I birth art from a place of pain and emotional distress. I made the mistake of thinking my most profound expressions would be that of pain, of sadness, anger, depression, and all their unnamed associates. Today, I strive to write from a different place. As intensely and at times excessively social as I am, I spoke to a friend who wanted to spend time with me, and decided to turn it into a tea party. I promised myself a while back that I would satisfy my swe

I’m always thinking about you. I can’t help but think that I was easy for you to discard. Ultimately you have made your decision, and I need to move on, but that is never easy. I can’t help what opinions you form of me. I can’t even help how you interpret the very best of my intentions and their resulting actions. I can only control myself. My feelings and actions. Only that. I was told once before that it is not easy, and it is frequent. Both of these things are true. I will

But my eyes are closed. As far as I am concerned, I lack coherence. What I feel and what I succeed at articulating are poles apart. I definitely feel as though I am at crossroads. I know what is safe, and advisable. But what feels right does not feel safe by human standards. I know this, but I do not know what the allure of the risk is. Other than the pain in my back, the tension in my body, and the weight on my chest, I cannot feel much else. I cannot feel much beyond “I n