I like the way the house smells when the fireplace is lit
I just finished watching the last episode of The Good Place.
Good Place is honestly the dark horse of good tv shows. They really just went there on every level. They had the potential to be silly and entertaining television and just bowled right through that expectation into. Something else. Whatever the tv version of the word is for ‘literature’ or ‘film’. That wasn’t a movie. It was a film. It said something about life and humanity and each of us. Not just on an emotional level but on a philosophical level. On a political level. It said no. It said here. Look at this. Take notice. And it did it so well? So subtly that sometimes you don’t notice unless you do, but also so unsubtle in every single thing with the kind of casualness where it never actually feels like trying? Or maybe not.
But also. Also. Eleanor Shellstrop. The most relatable human being. I know her so well, she could be me if I both loved and hated myself just a little bit more.
I have not said anything meaningful to anyone in so long. I feel like my inside is dead. Or not dead, but sleeping heavily.
I’m scared of back sliding into relationships that aren’t good for me.
I bought a new car today! It’s pink. I want through such a deep internal fight over this pink car and what it would say about me and who I am and my worries over it. I got to this point where I hit a wall and just realised I was looking at things wrong, and then suddenly it became easy and I knew I wanted the pink car.
I am so tired. I am looking forward to a time when I am not tired