Day 8

day 2

9:19 a. m.

one of these days, you're gonna get used to being the last to walk up those stairs at night and the first to walk down them in the morning. that weird morning haze won't look so unfamiliar to your eyes. that first buzz of electricity won't sound so ominous. you won't need to blast lorde at full volume to drown out the silence. but not today. not so soon.

maybe being strong is all about pretending. i can't think of it otherwise. how else do they hold each other up? how else do i look you in the eye and tell you it'll be alright?

reminder to self: just accept that alarms aren't for you. and maybe... just maybe, crying to lorde isn't such a bad idea.

day 10

10:59 p. m.

my hearts yearns for something it has never had. something it's not even sure exists. it searches and searches. in songs in languages it doesn't yet know and in people's last words. in stories written ages ago. in sunsets and stars long dead. i don't know what it wishes for. perhaps a way out of this world. dear heart, where would you like to go? dear heart, will you be happy there?

and i'd really, really like to believe that there's someone out there reading all this. reading this and rooting for me to make it through this. because if not, then what am i even doing here?

day 17

11:11 p. m.

i can almost feel it coming... but not now. not yet. i can't... talk about it. i won't.

but sending out these words feels good. keeping them in between the pages suffocates them. but there's something cathartic about sending them out into the world and knowing they're gonna be invisible. i just hope it's enough.

day 3

2:09 p. m.

oh look, we're back where we started. is this really how long grief lasts? is this really how long the pain at not being able to take away their pain lasts? or maybe this is just... an illusion. nothing more.

'this dream isn't feeling sweet

we're reeling through the midnight streets

and I've never felt more alone

it feels so scary, getting old'

tell me though, what remains when this is over. tell me it isn't just pain.

as a kid, i used to read the maps

whenever i used to be upset

i would open up any map

and simply stare at it for hours on end

absorbing the world

thinking of all the places i've never been

of all the places i'll never be to

nowadays, i read theories about the universe

how it started

how it might end

time travel and black holes

relativity of time and the songs of the universe

did you know, two black holes,

before colliding

create sounds waves in the very fabric of the universe

imagine being so sad and beautiful and terrible

the multiverse theory is still my favorite

to imagine worlds where i simply don't exist

never did, to begin with

i wonder if someone in that other universe

ever feels like they are missing someone they've never met

someone who doesn't even exist

i hope not

so maybe what i really wish to say

is that right from the start

the world has always been

my only escape from the demons inside my head

my best friend from ages ago texted me today. said it was great to think of me. now we're both 20. how did childhood pass so quickly? once, we laughed together and cried together. once, life was simply passing chits in class and holding hands during recess. now, there is too much to feel. talking to you, most of it is good. i hope we keep remembering each other. i hope we keep reminding each other. i hope, when life turns bitter, our memories can be that one last, sweet thing to hold onto.

i want to go home now. go home and cook something warm. eat it under the familiar lights. curl up in my bed and read all day, all night. listen to my mother's voice as she sings far away, but close enough.

home is not the same now. but it also never felt the way i remember it now.

day 18

8:28 a. m.

this happiness slowly creeping in... and you. nostalgia for days long gone. days that could've been. days that should've been. anyway.