the price of my bus ticket is higher now. i didn’t want to write down what i experienced this morning; it felt too beautiful to capture, to do it justice. i walked to the bus stop and smoked and it rained a little bit, just a faint drizzle. there are still raindrops on my glasses which are still broken. i listened to my favorite song and looked up and smoked. i love this part of being tired, the calm before the storm. i saw a light burning in a house i walked by and it was so beautiful. another house i walked past had these two lamps at the front door, motion detector ones, but one of them was broken and again, i thought it was so beautiful. sometimes humanity makes me so happy and i don’t know where it comes from, this sudden surge of love for us. i’m on the bus now and i’m writing it down, which means the moment has passed a little bit. i’m listening to come on eileen now, which isn’t my favorite song, but it’s nice. i get sad when i write. thinking makes me sad, i think. sometimes i think it’s because i feel too much but the feeling is nice. walking to the bus stop, i felt. now, i’m worried people might hear come on eileen coming from my headphones. i feel dizzy from the cigarette. i’m scared anyone might see me writing on my phone and i’m considering turning down the brightness, but i really don’t want to. i always feel the need to hide myself, in big and small ways. who cares if they hear my song or see that i’m writing on my phone or smell my perfume. it’s nice, smells good. vanilla-scented. it’s my mom’s. i’m listening to kraftklub now and that makes me nostalgic, always has. i never know what i’m nostalgic for. maybe it’s a longing for something that’s still ahead of me. which is kinda of nice as well, i guess. i have therapy soon, which is why i left the house at this time of day anyway. i was angry at my therapist for abandoning me again but now i don’t really feel like speaking to her. i have nothing to say, even if i do. in my journal, i write about my favorite shows. i don’t write about what makes me sad because i cry easily when i see my emotions and negative experiences written down. i don’t know why i should put myself through that, even though future-me might like to reminisce. i don’t actually believe that. i think future-me might be disappointed about my unnecessary rambles about characters i won’t care about anymore in a few weeks. but that’s okay. present-me likes it and i figure that’s really the only thing that matters. is that selfish? to only think of present-me? because i consider any future-me a different person, just like i roll my eyes at what past-me wrote. i don’t want to be inconsiderate— i just want to talk about what i like, things that make me happy. i don’t like writing about other people, my friends and family. i just say i hate them and then i carry on. i don’t want to go into detail, it makes everything seem so helpless. like suddenly, there is this awareness of how stuck i am, what i’m letting people do to me, what i do to people and, by extension, me. i hope i remember posting this later. i haven’t slept tonight because my sleep schedule has been bad again. or still, i’m not sure. i took a book with me, to read on the bus, but i don’t want to. in the reflection of the small window in front of me, separating bus driver (the mean one) and me, i can see a black woman just got on. i feel immediately protective of her, even though i don’t know her. i wonder if that means i have white savior complex, since i’m mixed and stuff, or if it’s just because i know what the people here are capable of. i’m too sensitive but everyone knows that. i want to quit my job. yesterday, i went to work, but i had to force myself with all my might. i’m excited for february— i hope my life will be different by then. i miss driving to the city every morning for school or for the day clinic. i’d rather go back to the clinic than therapy, though. when i said that to my sister (i mentioned it in passing, like the thought just came to me randomly, rather than it had been occupying my mind for a while now), she just told me “then do it”. maybe i should. it’s only january but i already feel so rushed. i don’t feel like talking anymore.
10:07: i’m in the city now. i bought a book and a salmon bagel because i was dizzy. it tastes really good.