the quality of being authentic
(AUTHENTIC IS)
(of undisputed origin; genuine*)
messy buns a little bit too messy to be pretty, hair falling all over
a camera held loosely, fingers easily finding the record or picture button by muscle memory
years of bad relived in words spilling out to another entity for need of connection and know
pacing back and forth, staring at walls, and misplaced hand gestures all while talking to yourself
what too many people crave for so bad
what turns stale when too many people crave it so bad
stale
found 75 pages deep into a blog found from someones reblog of anothers' reblog at midnight
drunk like sleepiness, the slightly tipsy shitpost on the verge of deep conversation
open skype calls with gritty laptop cameras and headphones, talking talking talking
waking up at 3 am and writing something down immediately so as to not forget it
post dinner midnight snack cereal
"i don't really know how i am. how about you, how are you?"
talking to your dog

and nice dark hair
a warm smile,
hands that hold you close
i was so close to falling for him
but i jolted awake

to love someone else is to first love yourself
to find flaws in others is to discover your own
to judge them, you're really only judging you in comparison
to ignore me is to ignore we

The thin veil parts a little sometimes
and you no longer can be so sure which side you inhabit
a kind of little half dead half alive
I imagine entering death will be something quite similar

We all live within the little deaths a day brings
death to ourselves, our thoughts, our beliefs
our pettiness, our inhumanity
and hopefully with time
we will have died to ourselves completely.