sometimes when i'm having a painful conversation i'll make the imessage window wider so that it feels like there's a little more distance between us

as a young 20-something i wanted to live a life full of joy and friends and never ending hypnogogic beauty. today, all i want is a life that grants me silence and stability, to eke out my days watching over sorrows like a garden.

allow yourself to fall in love with the uneasy blossoming warmth of a beautiful night—the way that intimacy coincides with discomfort. nothing of great value comes without the standard trepidations of sociality—did I talk too much, did I hide, did my ego get the best of me… you can simply let them be swamped by something else, you can allow the inherent worth of proximity and love and deny that the feelings that shadow it need to be escaped

every time i've tried to prioritize function over form i've regretted it