(no subject)
i'm kind of the queen of moving on. sometimes i don't want to. sometimes i want to wallow and feel the blood from my heart drip just to be sure. that's part of moving on. sometimes i think there's only one thing to do that can be good--i'm standing in a room full of doors to so many places; a door back, a door to pgh, a door to the desert, a door to hell, a door to the moon (jk themoonlandingwasfaked)--and i have to pick the one right thing. i'm a wise ancient capricorn crone and i wonder where my intuition is. all i get is a panicked heart, a loss of appetite and tired eyes. maybe that's close enough. they tell me i can't stay here. maybe i can come back later but, from this sickness, i can't know. all doors lead to newness and growth. there is no right thing.