2.13.2020 - alone in mixed company

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 “she hates how much it rains, but it's raining all the time. she said, "i’d like to go home, i don't feel right in these clothes, and i might be losing my mind.”

they say that insanity is doing the same things over & over for a chance at different results, and maybe that’s true. but if it is, then why do we define hope the same way?


my tongue twists. i am wrong, as i am a lot of things these days. pretentious. aggressive. delicate like a bomb, not fine china; waiting for the right catalyst to make me explode. definitions are no longer my friend, if they ever were at all. they twist my tongue into foreign shapes. i used to understand words; knew how to use them. in the beginning, language was my friend. 


𝙝𝙀π™₯π™š, 𝙣𝙀π™ͺ𝙣: a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. a feeling of trust. grounds for believing that something good may happen.


𝙝𝙀π™₯π™š, π™«π™šπ™§π™—: to want something to occur or be the case. intent, if possible, to do something.

i lived like that once. i used to believe in things. hope is the temporary kind of different.


“and i used to beg june to burn me alive, if that would get me anywhere but here.”


summer was never my season.

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