"An Old English word for library was "bochord", which literally means "book hoard", and honestly I really think we should go back to saying that because not only does it sound really cool, but it also sort of implies that librarians are dragons." - Dolohkov
I stare at my knees, hugging them, feeling the soft fabric of my pants, I stare at my eyes in the cracked mirror, I feel cold.
The decaying paint layer on the wall, stains in the carpet, the hinging door, the flickering lamp, the misaligned painting, the trash beneath the bed, the messy blanket I lay down on.
I listen to a muffled car outside my room, the generator somewhere in the distance, constantly buzzing, a neighbor coughing, the tv show playing for no one in the living room.
The perhaps inevitable realization that I'm not doing ok.
I want to feel way better than when I am at my best.
Hours go by, shadows morph along my room, progressing as the sun leaves me by myself.
The walls start cracking, rapidly changing in shape and size, as if exploding from the inside out, only to be suddenly glued back together.
The concrete divides itself into countless small geometrical shapes, spinning in a whirlwind around me.
A few of these particles eventually reach my skin, cutting me.
They're all paper-thin, the cuts.
I can't get up by my own.
Maybe I should give in to temptation and let the whirlwind finish it's job, finally freeing me from ever making a decision again.
I don't want to feel like it's out of my control.
It should be an option.
Always an option, always tomorrow.
The difference between me and everything else is blurry, I no longer see the edge, and maybe I don't want to.
Now I am both the queen and the kingdom.
gasoline self
adomania
n. the sense that the future is arriving ahead of schedule, that all those years with fantastical names like '2013' are bursting from their hypothetical cages into the arena of the present, furiously bucking the grip of your expectations while you lean and slip in your saddle, one hand reaching for reins, the other waving up high like a schoolkid who finally knows the answer to the question.
lilo
n. a friendship that can lie dormant for years only to pick right back up instantly, as if no time had passed since you last saw each other.
And yet, we're still losing
