Do I want to be seen or do I want to hide from everyone?
If crying were a job I would be filthy, stinking rich.
I haven't watched the rest of Star Wars yet. I watched most of it but couldn't describe anything that happened.
I have a headache, in the front of my forehead.
Last night I lay in bed and listened to this song over and over and sobbed.
It was a good kind of crying, the "okay, I'm sad, fuck it, I'm going to cry" sort of crying. The crying where my heart literally aches in my chest and everything comes bubbling up to the front of my mind, and I can't write, and I can't read, or draw, or talk to anyone, I just cry, and it's a mode of expression in which I am very much part of myself.
I've been a crier as long as I can remember.
In sixth grade we watched a documentary about slavery, and I remember sitting in the dark classroom and crying. When the lights came up a kid asked if I was crying, and I said no, and he said "there are tears all over your face", and another guy, who I had a crush on, who had almond shaped brown eyes, told him to leave me alone.
There were lots of straight couples out on the street tonight.
I'm sure there always are, but I noticed it more tonight.
Men and women holding hands. Crossing the street. Eating dinner. One man's hand on a girl's waist.
Do I even want that?
Is that partly what I've been crying for my whole life?
My therapist said I should probably have a consult to see if I need medication. Sometimes I feel fine and I don't want to be medicated, because I probably don't need it, but other times I just feel like my heart is being...squeezed, that everything is wrong and leaving, and I wonder if that feeling is me or if it's something else.
In an hour and a half it will be midnight.
Tomorrow is the birthday of one of my best friends from childhood. We haven't spoken in years now. I wonder how much other people remember.
I feel like I need to take all of my organs out one by one and scrub them clean, and warm them up under a big yellow lamp.
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