I’m in somebody’s bedroom in Georgia and getting mildly (untrue) high with the tv on
Recently I’ve been into listening to the music I listened to my senior year of high school and if I thought I got it then I get it now.
I’ll be twenty-two on a hot Friday in June
Twenty-one was a year of losing everything I was attached to and being forced to change as much as I kicked and fought
This time last year, I might have been in somebody else’s bed, and imagining that the friendships I thought that I possessed in that moment would last Forever with a capital F
I feel so different and the same.
I can feel myself moving on if not forward, or at least trying, nymph molting to aphid
This year and the year of these songs feel similar
I feel lighter maybe, no less unsure.
















