i want to fill a diary and show you every page

feeling anxiety over shame about shame, so lame

i have to allow myself to express displeasure directly, this defeatist stoicism i fearfully cling to sabotages every opportunity for genuine connection

it's pathetic and not in an endearing way. i need to trust my partner to receive my emotions in a way that doesn't immediately imply wrongdoing on their part. alternatively i need to be comfortable sharing when i feel wronged, even if just by circumstance

not sure if i'll keep this account and in what form, unclear why i would post here over discord or emma's dms. the only reason i started is that i wanted to construct a profile and felt overly saturated socially

expression in music has, as its content, the inner life itself, the inner sense of feeling and for the matter in hand, and, as its form, sound, which, in an art that least of all proceeds to spatial figures, is purely evanescent in its perceptible existence;

the result is that music with its movements penetrates the arcanum of all the movements of the soul.

i've been so lackluster in my messages to people lately

texting sucks, i just want to call you or do my own thing. and i desperately need more of the latter right now

the blood on my fingers from biting my nails has gone dry, maybe i should take care of myself. and my ears have been ringing for days from that sound, but i blame it on you cause i can’t stay around.

and as i sit here on my own, regressing on memories i remind myself of that time that i had to go puke and i still think about it sometimes cause i miss you. trying to keep it together, so hard to see you go. gut wrenching feeling inside, will slowly kill me over time.

i try not to look at myself. i just want to hold you now, when im with you i feel alright. i want to hold you tonight, cause when im with you i alright.

all i did was music today

i will sleep and continue resting tomorrow

as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them.

i threw out all my food for you

why would you do that?

i was scared

the spectator must not project what transpires in himself on to the artwork in order to find himself confirmed, uplifted, and satisfied in it, but must, on the contrary, relinquish himself to the artwork, assimilate himself to it, and fulfill the work in its own terms.

an artwork opens its eyes under the gaze of the spectator when it emphatically articulates something objective

this possibility of an objectivity that is not simply projected by the spectator is modeled on the expression of melancholy, or serenity, that can be found in nature when it is not seen as an object of action.

my capacity to be two-faced is unhealthy

i need to reduce the dissonance between the evaluations i express when confiding in a third party and the evaluations i implicitly or explicitly express to the person themselves

not for the traditional justifications (although those have more going for them than i previously was willing to grant), but rather for my own psychic hygiene

i haven't changed so much, and neither have you

maybe i'll call emma later, but for now i need to be selfish

all you've been is selfish

that's not true and you know it. it's alright to be confused

i haven't been able to listen to music properly for a while, it's been nice to do so today.

medellin makes some good emo

nothing a good night of rest can't solve

funny that i was caught up on worrying about repeating past mistakes that i missed the far more obvious opposite kind of mistake with the same root

that's what u get for addressing symptoms

live and learn but ouch