I walked through the unkempt graveyard, marvelling at the sheer breadth of crosses and flowers. Flimsy symbols to keep a soul alive, unforgotten. I felt ill, head pounding and stomach aching. The sickness had been with me for longer than I could remember. Walking amongst the mossy beds, I longed to lie down and rest amongst them. I wanted uninterrupted sleep and for the pain to finally disappear. If I could just take refuge among them, it would be gone, no longer in control of me. I took a moment and sat on a bench under an overgrown tree, weeds wound around the legs and crept towards me like spindly fingers. I looked out over the dull, dreary scene and imagined what it would be like to no longer have to feel, to never endure again.
idk man it just makes me so so so sad when you’re watching a cutiepie talk about their passion like when they light up and start bubbling over with words and then all of a sudden they stop themselves and say stuff like “sorry, i know this is boring” or “sorry i just got excited”
like you know somewhere in their life someone they respected told them “shut up nobody cares” and ever since they can’t talk about their favorite things without apologizing every 5 seconds