Those who talk of revolution without explicit referent to everyday life or understanding what is subversive about love, such people have a corpse in their mouths.
my emotions don’t really make sense right now. i keep catching myself at the edge of saying things i don’t believe, so i can express anything at all. i’m pretty sad about nothing in particular and im frustrated that i have nothing worth saying any longer. all my statements are flat and hollow.
i want to read again. i feel powerless and uninspired and anhedonic. i’m not even especially sad, and that makes it worse actually. i’m all numb, and nothing works. cutting myself this weekend was uneventful and not noteworthy. time marches onward.