I spent over a hundred dollars on a sewing machine that I used once. Ordered dozens of books and read maybe one? Since college I’ve given up on starting hobbies and shifted focus towards “self-care.” Buying hundred of face masks I rarely use.
What about the *actual* hum behind the screen, behind the smile that doesn't quite reach the part of you that’s still reeling from the last silent scream or the slow, soft ache of being almost, but never quite, seen? This skin, it breathes.
Publishing my first book felt like ‘Damn I will get a few readers soon! My book will do great on Amazon. I remember the excitement of clicking the publish button, imagining readers reading my story, leaving good reviews, bad reviews and even recommending it to their friends.
An pedrqem sorriso encomendado, apenas a expressão exata de quem existe, sem mais.
Oue já não tem paciência para fingir nada — nem tristeza teatral,
cabelo solto, desalinhado com naturalidade, emoldura um rosto
Beut you didn't stop.aach voice cried.
bnd you felt the old tug
tegan to tremble
though the whole house
their bad advice—
whough the voices around you
Ohat you had to do, and began,
ne day you finally knew