night sneaks up like a child’s bedtime; i rub my eyes into the sleeve of my shirt, aching for god or my mother. extremities become detachable & friends become saints in a way that is more than sacrifice or holy divinity.
the desire to be wanted only arrives during the most intense isolation, sitting in the corner of a room, listening to apologies turned argument; "i was right all along, you should have done the thing i told you to do, & now you didn't, & now look where you are."
i don’t know if i am hungry, or just alone. i want to be high.
You must never give into despair. Allow yourself to slip down that road, and you surrender to your lowest instincts. In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength. — Uncle Iroh
