"An entire universe of knowledge is not worth the tears of that little child"
- Ivan Dostoyevsky
Am I defining myself by my weight today?
Sam is coming back, What remains unsaid, untouched, uncovered? Not feelings, not love, but that scared little girl exists somewhere still. He just reminds me of that drunk, crying teenager who’s pain lay in the misunderstanding of her own brain, I can’t be teetered off and lost again to you this time.
I’ve started writing in my journal in prose which is so much flipping easier feels better to write in. Also yesterday I bought the song remains the same on vinyl so I WIN.