if you are still capable of being offended/triggered by anything at all: basically....run.
Well, we’re missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?
“No, not by a long shot.”
Help, I’m alive;
my heart keeps beating like a hammer.
Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in.
I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly
As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands.
I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.
I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free –
The peacefulness is so big it dazes you…
— Tulips, Sylvia Plath
I don’t even care anymore. And you know what’s even better?
“That’s one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can’t fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex. I can see inside you. I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can’t win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just keep going through the motions. You’re not hungry because inside, you’re already dead.”
There is an exhaustion
that clings to you
as a shadow clings
It seeds itself, roots-deep
in the very fabric
of your mind
And tells you to sleep
and s l e e p…
You wish that morning
didn’t feel like fighting
the pull of water
And it’s getting harder
to keep your head up
and keep on breathing
Have you worked out what it is yet? What’s the final problem? I did tell you, but did you listen?