i talk to God because He always tells me honestly that there are more tears to cry. people tell me it’s over and that it’s okay. i hear from above that i have what i need right here.

plunge me into this world that i would’ve created for myself, if given the chance. watch me ask for forgiveness, and relief, and offer me none. i’d have asked for it, like this. the way was always known to me.

embittered feelings stain linens of soft white and corrode hard steel, but they touch not my soul. i speak to you in a harsher, quieter voice, and wish myself master of it, wish to have spared you, but know that i would’ve chosen this. i would’ve chosen to be unable to hide it. you would’ve chosen it too, for to always be bared.

our skin is chilled in winter and it will be a long time until the summer sun settles on us, again. it rises nevertheless, in my memories and in my futures. the snow is white, but sooty.



you’re going to read this and you’re going to think that i’m sad, or something. or that i’m sad, but hopeful. but here’s what i mean. i mean that if i were all-powerful, and i could create any world i wanted, i would make this one. that’s what i think happened, that’s why i’m here. i was a god, and i chose this. i did it for a reason. yes, it hurts right now, no, that doesn’t have to be the revelation of the century that there’s a person who hurts, ever. i’m happy to hurt. i want to be here. i want to understand why i hurt here, and how to heal from it or soothe it. it hurts worse to be alone, and it hurts much worse to give up.

look, i’m trying to speak frankly. sometimes, i think it confuses things more than it clarifies them. but i seriously see all this as opportunity more than anything else. and please, in the name of god in heaven, whatever you do, don’t read this and think it’s some simple attempt to communicate a basic emotion. i’m not just sad. i don’t just need attention. i might be sad and i might need attention, maybe, but i can’t exactly tell. it’s hard for me to imagine getting attention and it feeling anything but hollow, or artificial. i wrote this thing, and when i read it, and imagine myself as someone else, that’s what i would think they were saying. i was going to rewrite it as more hopeful, more determined, because that’s how i feel on the inside, but then i wrote this exegesis instead, because i think it’s important to try new things. i seriously think that if i post this on my website, it will be difficult for me to keep it up without deleting it.



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