28.08.2025
after an intense summer that could only be described as the byproduct of a hypomanic episode, i am hollowed out and have this inexplicable pit in my stomach. full of imported affairs and the usual suspects, i was sun soaked - mind body and soul.
if there is one thing that i have learned this summer is that i am often an experience rather than a person. the fun anecdote in your travel stories, the presumed love of your life without even knowing my favourite colour. you will convince yourself that you have never felt like this before and you never will again. youll obsess and want to spend every minute observing me, not realizing that there's nothing real about that, ive just become your favourite tv show and will always have to be camera ready.
i will let you time travel to a point where you didnt make the wrong decision, where you told the truth and you got the girl; let you play house to see what it all couldve been like only for a night. you’ll wake up and not want to leave, but will do so without as much as a second thought. the inability to tell me anything will come back as you sober up, and it will all be chalked up to a “nice to spend time with you” text.
youll travel just to spend a few days not knowing what you even want from me, playing with me in your hands like a toy you haven’t learned the rules for yet - curious but unwilling to put in the work. youll hide behind being shy, looking at me with large lost eyes, wondering why i wont say and do everything for you. youll tell me that you will miss me and i wont know how to respond. what will you miss? the little vessel you made of me that you got to fill with your fantasy of being a person who took risks, even if the risk was just to get on a train.
youll continue me like a bad habit that you cant get rid of. youll scream into the void about how much you hate me, but kiss me on escalators the following week. we will be just friends, everything is fine. you will throw everything that reminds you of me down your trash chute, saying that you just couldnt bear to have it in your place anymore while youre figuring out the next time you can sneak me into your room and pull me close against you between your sheets.
i will be everything you want me to be in the moment that you need me to be it. and then i will make the mistake of saying too much, asking very little - but somehow still too much - and it will become too real, im no longer an experience but an actual person and what could be worse than that.
