What wants to be said
Dear reader,
I want to say that my heart is broken.
I want to say that my heart is alive and happy and nourished.
I want to say that going on Instagram is a fucking dissonant apocalyptic nightmare. Here’s what I scroll on my feed in the time span of 2 minutes flat: buy my course about sIsTeRhoOd! donate to this gofundme! horrific war crimes! get laser hair removal to be sexy for lIfE!! fire. devastating flooding. Gaza being destroyed. more unthinkable war crimes. botox! fillers! here’s why you need to shake your ass! buy my 10-day course to change your entire life! clothing swap, be there!! does your nervous system need to be oPtImIzEd?! start making money from your hobbies TODAY! the election is around the corner. here’s why your fave candidate is a piece of shit! more horrific war crimes. buy my tie-dyed socks! here’s what you’re doing WRONG this election season!! biohacking is IN baby!! here’s how to make 6 figures in ONE HOUR!!— fuck. it’s no wonder no one is okay.
I want to say that the bright reds and oranges and yellows and purples and greens of the season are keeping me grounded and open and in awe of it all.