Sometimes I fantasize about disappearing.
Not dying.
Just logging off.
Getting a job no one cares about.
Growing tomatoes.
Writing poems in the margins of a notebook no one reads.
Not as a failure.
But as a kind of freedom.
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sometimes i wonder how many versions of myself i’ve outgrown without even noticing. i look back at old photos and remember the thoughts i used to carry, the dreams i thought would save me. it’s strange how you can live inside yourself every day and still not realize you’re evolving. it’s only when you look back that you realize how far you’ve come, how many lives you’ve already lived in the same skin.
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My Saturday PSA:
Joe Biden isn’t the president anymore.
Instead, we’ve got a mentally deranged and ethically compromised old man with the nuclear codes trespassing in the Oval Office.
Stop talking about Joe Biden.
Start talking about the Convicted Felon, Donald Trump.
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