i'm running towards everything except the one i really want to reach

been taking walks. what else is there for these lungs to function again? perhaps, sleep. a long, long sleep. i don't mind if it isn't in beauty. make it the ugliest. but don't wake me up, please.

yesterday, for the first time in years, i walked in the rain. i walked like i wasn't exhausted. tried to feel and catch the downpour as much as i could. stood between the trees and listened. stayed as if i had always been there. a hum, a gust, then a whisper. 'where the hell have you been?'

C said if I want to write that one particular ghost of mine, I need to be madder, more free and more obsessed.

orz

forty-four sunsets and counting

☁️

find me a sunset less lonely than mine.

i've waited for so long just for you to pass by so quickly. and here i am waiting again. waiting still. waiting regardless.