What I want most is to be seen
Right?
Tattoos, clothes, coffee shops.
Drifting my car in the snow
Writing in public.
Selfies.
I go on dates with pretty girls, but
They never really see me.
I haven't been seen in years.
I've had one percent good experiences
Ninetynine bad.
Scales are tipped in favor of suffering,
and yet those few times I've been seen still carry me.
Talking to <redacted> the other day was cathartic.
I miss her most of all
Even though things could never be how they were.
I don't really care about the past.
She made me happy and appeared in my dreams.
Annie is dying in my brain.
Bad politics.
I'm droning.
This is my diary, shared public for no apparent reason.
You get the **** with the gold.
Coffee with Amanda was enlightening. Brightening.
I feel chill with her.
Comfortable and excited.
