look at this dumbass closet; doesn’t close fully, creaks every time you try to open it, is structurally collapsing yet somehow holding its shit together with so much inside of it that never really sees the light of day;
this dumbass closet is not a schematic representation of my human emotions and yet, i relate more to it than i do to you
i have my misgivings, i know they can overwhelm you; just the way when i open my closet, everything gushes out in a heap of garbled garments and medicinal ointments, so do my feelings when they’re let out of their proverbial coupe
i get attached easily, i know; my closet needs to get dusted for a full day before receiving a solid week’s worth of craftsmanship to restore it to a presentable condition; me personally, way more
i guess, i am writing to you because i sorta want out of this closet
but i don’t know how to
get out
The Journal 