i simultaneously wish i cared more and less about everyone and everything.
— Hiroshima Mon Amour (1959) Alain Resnais (via 20aliens)
Let’s take current inventory of my immediate space. I live with my bed on the floor and surrounding it closely/on top of it (myself not included) right now, we have:
-A book called “the art love”
-My half full pipe and lighter
-My keyboard and sheet music
-A dozen or so graphic novels
-Various sex toys
-An empty pizza box
-A partially eaten bag of fire cheetos
-My therapy workbook
-$150 in one dollar bills
-Batteries…so many batteries
-24 pack of charmin ultra
-A book about the ISS
-Settlers of catan
-Modeling clay, tools, and work surface
-Unopened chocolates and gummies
What is my life turning into? I’m not necessarily unhappy. I feel okay. Just wondering how I got here and whether or not I will ever feel caught up enough with life to declutter my head and physical spaces. I am exhausted all over and it’s starting to show.
What are you even doing with your life, Amber?
I mean really, don’t be stupid — get it the fuck together and knock this shit off.
I have nothing to lose, and yet…