i’m sitting in my room in groningen at 4 in the morning. i’ve passed the halfway point of my time here and i feel different. i remember getting on the plane on december 19th and feeling terrified and gloriously independent all at once. i wrote a “journal entry” in a notebook and then tore it up once my plane landed—i’m not a writer. i got to johannesburg and it...
by not expressing anything human, by complete self-negation, a work of art...– piet mondrian, 1914 to believe in something is a beautiful thing
tonight was concrete proof that my theory has always been correct: the spice girls do in fact make for perfect club music.
logic is screaming in my ears
i’m bad at having emotions and even worse at expressing them and i know we need to talk but i don’t know how to bring it up, so i wish you would do all the work (like for everything else; when you bring me breakfast, when you fix my bike, can’t this be the same?). what we have here isn’t real life (real life for me is the library, lenoir, webassign, cary, my friends my...