the future slips into my past

⋆ ⱼₐₙᵤₐᵣᵧ ₁₆ ₂₀₂₅

Sometimes I feel like my past litters my present. It's all over the place, it's the consequences of my actions and the fade of my accomplishments. I've always thought the alternative was the future, but I feel bullied by the future. I think my conscious mind thinks too small. I've wasted so much of my life thinking to think. As if the present is not something to be, but to calculate, scrutinize. I stab chopsticks in my cranium. I use my free time to swirl tofu custard in chili oil crisp.

My trauma lightened it's load recently because I realized what will happen in the future will always recontextualize my past. I often wonder how real my past is, partly being a victim of gaslighting, but mostly a nuanced understanding that the mind compresses time and alters events. I wonder if patterns of man I've convinced myself are unequivocably true, are true at all.

DO PEOPLE LISTEN TO SONGS' LYRICS?

I've been craving spicy food like the fire breather I am. I am so inpatient to stop lulling about what I don't wish to have the power to control. I want to let go right away, but everything tells me I'm not ready yet. There's still something to learn, in the present. If I can put my ear to the street, and let a few more cars drive by I'll get back up resembling a Picasso. I'm optimistic about losing my mind.

IT'S A CONVERSATION WITH YOURSELF