we will become silhouettes

i don’t know how i have so many dreams when it seems as if i barely sleep. i sleep in the afternoons; there is something lovely and indulgent about sleeping then, with the warm sun fading the carpet and knowing other people are awake while you just carelessly lay back and fall asleep. To the same token there is some pleasure in being awake when everyone else is sleeping; having the whole house to yourself and being just a little bit creeped out by the dark void that used to be your regular living room.

i find my thoughts are different when i’m awake in the middle of the night. there’s something ultimately final about this time. it’s as if, if you can’t be honest right now, alone, with no one to see you, you’ve got bigger problems than insomnia. if you can’t admit your feelings to 3 a.m., you can’t deal with them tomorrow.

i feel like i’ve been looking at my life the wrong way.

i’m so afraid to make a mistake, or have a regret by doing the wrong thing. my dad told me that “at your age, you should be doing the wrong thing.” parenting skills aside, maybe he’s right. i should stop trying so hard to figure out my whole life and just go with it. i fall in love with this philosophy every time it dawns upon me but i can never take the first step. you can’t just blow off the future like it doesn’t matter, “living by the moment” is bullshit. if i lived by the moment i’d be doing heroin. you can’t act like there’s no future, because then why would you care?

I dreamed that i opened my door and i didn’t see what i expected on the other side. this interests me.

i will go to sleep now.


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