“I better call the GP or do something. But I don’t, I write songs at 3am, letters to a God I don’t usually believe in all dressed up as spurned and burned love letters…”
Diary
“It’s only been month. And I know everything is always a month. I am beat. She is beat. And navigating this while I navigate me while I navigate her while she navigates him, thinking of myself seems an N’th degree selfish..”
“Yesterday I hit the hay hard. I was tired in a way that was everything…”
So are these unreasonable expectations? Or are they aspects of self-care and wellbeing that any half healthy mind might just chew through?
“That bucket holding the Christmas behind me, it’s a well of loved memories to draw from. And as I sit in the living room he sat in, with glasses on just like he wore, with his slippers that I’ve now named as mine… I’m a placeholder, same as his new living state…”
“A head out of the swap with the shoulders still under isn’t the same as a clean bird’s eye view. I’m not looking down yet but I’ll get there. And I’m hoping that might strike a chord…”
“So let’s just give the fuck its banana. We may as well acknowledge its presence. And who knows we might even get on…”
Rats on the Run 