freedom in detachment

it’s been awhile. an event in september left such a large fracture to my foundational being and since then i’ve been trying to build an improved and impenetrable structure ck_v3.1 but sourcing platinum takes awhile (and is expensive). 2022 comes to a close and the most significant lesson i’ve learned is:

it’s not that deep

yes, space is deep. yes, sea is deep. however i am not an astronaut and i am not a marine archaeologist— i am an explorer of emotive experiences. i love observing lips stretch wide horizontally and tighten small into themselves, i love finding connections as minuscule as a favorite milkshake flavor (chocolate) to enormous as physical trauma (sex); i love memorizing every single freckle constellation scattered across the entire surface, i love researching a reference that made an impact on sentimental organs; i love gathering personal histories to clearly see the present. but like i said before, i am not an astronaut and i am not a marine archaeologist. we are all limited to certain thresholds. i will never be curious about the void of black holes or the ~90% of unknown sea animals. i think a setting sun is profoundly beautiful but the sun sets every day. it hurts me not being able to say bye before a trip and it hurts me even further when it’s treated like not a big deal. depth does exist it just depends how interested the participant is.

yesterday morning i woke up facing the left side and saw my right hand entwined with my left hand. yesterday evening i finally let insecurities exit tear ducts with no evidence left on a black shirt for sleep. this morning i had anxiety attack and threw up bile. what an adventure. this solo voyage continues on. thank you to everyone who still comes by and visits. stay tuned for future results…