one of my happily rare mope broadcasts
in wiser and more reckless days, i knew long distance relationships sucked and weren't worth it. part of this was the twisted but sadly valid and proven logic that if something sucks and i miss my significant other, i'll do reckless stupid things for comfort and fuck it all up. i'm not so restless now, and i trust myself not to be an idiot, but it still sucks. the longing is so constant that i don't even remember how it sucks until we're together for a weekend and then have to leave. and then i get this stubborn irritating melancholy going, which i can't assuage by talking about it, or by figuring anything out, because no change needs to be made, and it'll be gone in a few days, ebbing back to the painless quotidian "aw, wish he were here for ___."
this is all what i want to be doing, i have a goal, and the end is in sight. it's just on the horizon, just august. but august and april, though beginning with the same letter, are not equivalent. i do not practice gematria (hebrew letter/numerology), or i could figure out how to do that.
so, maybe after teleporter on the to-do list sits gematria.
this is all what i want to be doing, i have a goal, and the end is in sight. it's just on the horizon, just august. but august and april, though beginning with the same letter, are not equivalent. i do not practice gematria (hebrew letter/numerology), or i could figure out how to do that.
so, maybe after teleporter on the to-do list sits gematria.