subject line: take 1.


philadelphia, pennsylvania 

I tried to write a letter, but I can’t today. I am tired. I am sad. I am crying under a blanket I bought from summer camp in 8th grade and I could make that into something poetic about childhood nostalgia. But I won’t. Because it’s not poetic, it’s pathetic. I wrote all of that in one sentence and had to go back and split it up because my mind is racing and I can’t turn it off. God, sometimes I wish I could turn it off. God, turn it off.

I will write again when I can form coherent thoughts.

Thanks in advance for being there when I’m ready.