it’s another night. and i’m still writing [“i’m wrong more often than i am writing and even then i’m often wrong” – Gibson]. not always letters, not always to myself – like the email i sent and i just want it BACK NOW, please. it was a moment, one, and when will i learn that not all words need to be sent? i’ve been sending up half-prayers since then, hoping, hoping, you understand and that maybe you saw the beauty there, or that you still see the beauty in what i do.

i want to be in love with this life all the time. or at least stop remembering how i wanted to break up with it. i need to remember that i’ve done all of this before. i feel like everyone in this city is just looking for someone romantically, and i want to go back to the time where we were all just friends, feelings came later: let’s share crayons and don’t try to kiss me at recess. now it seems like feelings come first, and that is complicated. then i call myself a hypocrite and laugh.

and yeah. there’s still a lot i don’t understand; some of it, i don’t want to; some of it, i need to. like why i have moments of feeling that fire again, and why i shove it away. but i don’t need to know why her talking about faith no longer scares me, i just appreciate that it doesn’t. i’m grateful about the many different ways of living that are available.

i don’t need to know why some people look at numbers and only see colours. i just need to believe that it’s a miracle, that sometimes, the formula can’t be completed – because that particular shade of four cannot be next to the brightness of 3.

a dream, last night: at the airport. “i can’t take this anymore!” crying crying crying – i woke up and thought it was real, thought it was last night, thought it was tomorrow, thought and thought. some thoughts fucking linger.

it’s been one of those days – andrea gibson’s “maybe i need you” made my eyes water while walking around underground, so of course i listened to it on repeat until i cried. i sent an email. one that i regret, as mentioned above. one that used silly words and i don’t even mean them half of the time and please don’t make me a monument.

please don’t read too much into the dark, i swear, i’m mostly made of sunshine but lately there’s a lot of fear. there’s still beauty in the darkest of places – please see that, too. i’m not stone. you know that, right?

i carry my camera like a prayer. please, let me see something beautiful, today. please. let me be someone beautiful.

i keep thinking about sign language and how we can talk to one another using only our hands, a look, a. something. like, ‘love, i may go deaf and not be able to hear the sound of your voice, but i can hear the rumble of your vocal cords in your chest and we will fill the silence with entire conversations using JUST OUR HANDS and it won’t be quiet, not even a little, because you’ll be with me.’

i’ve also been thinking about that moment when you’re with someone, usually kissing, and it just changes. something else takes over and i can’t find the words to explain, but i’ve been thinking about it a lot. that, and holding hands.

i keep wondering when.

let it go and say