Y.S.T.

Sometimes I write my thoughts down. And the next day, I'll look at them and decide: bullshit or potent. Lots of the former lately. But what do I expect? Most of life is bullshit, and once you've paid into the system and have done it long enough, the remainder of your life is also bullshit because you're too lazy or plagued with diabetes to care to make that trek to the Yellow River. Hey now, do you check your blood sugar?And more importantly, do you check it often? Doesn't matter as far as I'm concerned, because if there is a god, he shouldn't care about how many testing strips you go through per month.

But you know what? Regardless of how bullshit they are, those thoughts are completely my own (yeah, sometimes when I wear a scarf I feel like a pig in a blanket, and yeah, I've written a song on my violin about a boy's eyelashes), and that's more than I can say for most people. Or actually, I can only say that for myself. And thank god for that. I'd hate to delve into someone else's thoughts only to hit my head after barely sinking below the surface, the wardrobe-focused thought processes (OMG PURPLE AND ORANGE SO AREN'T IN); but at the same time, I'm not too interested in diving into an abyss. If I didn't drown first, I'd at least be bored to death (which is more pleasant, I'm not entirely sure). Happy mediums are good, yet they're the most scary for the same reason: they're honest. And let's be honest, how happy is honesty? Take off the lenses, put down the cup, and evaluate. And then you realize. shit. I've fucked up.

I have a difficult time being honest with myself about most everything, even down to how much my roots have grown out and how many miles I've gone over from the sticker in my windshield that says when I need to get my oil checked. Honesty is terrifying and overwhelming, and I hide myself from it a lot, even if it means finding another voice to suck out my thoughts when my pen hits a page. Maybe that's why I don't have a mirror in my bathroom; the sound and scent of truth are already too much for this body to handle.

Also, the words of the night are: siren, grenadine, persuasive.