luce

everytextisaconfession

[entrythirteen]

october 29

i keep hearing the fridge.

it sounds like it’s sighing.

it’s weird that no one ever talks about how alive appliances sound when you’re too quiet.

the hum keeps syncing with my breathing, like we’re both trying.

[entrythirteen]

first of all, i would like to thank the very lovely person who lost their (soft, cushioned) pretend notebook (long-lost sketchbook, really).

if you hadn’t lost it, i wouldn’t have found it.

if i didn’t find it, i wouldn’t have written my journals (nothing to write on these days).

and if i didn’t write my journals—then whose notes would i be using to post my to-be blogs?

thank you? thank you.

(no idea what this gif entails)

you’re a student, for sure.

you had doodles in the corners—eyes that look like they’ve seen god(s), or maybe just a really boring math class. you were bored. i would be too. your notes resembled drawings more than they did lectures, and you've used only a few pages (more for me).

i tried to write over them, but the pencil refused to stay still.

sometimes i think your handwriting is fighting mine. it's like you're inside, saying "this is mine."

(i let it win. finders keepers)

today i underlined the word begin seven times. not sure what i was beginning. maybe this, maybe nothing, maybe beginning is just remembering with better handwriting.

nothing really starts.

it just picks up where someone else left off.

there’s a lipstick mark on page twelve (12)

i don’t wear lipstick.