i think i have mono, again.

differences grow all around us-sometimes on us like flakes of mold. dust rocks. wax flaps.

the elements of seeing one thing die, while simultaneously watching another sky rocket and take off far away from you is numbingly painful-which is a really interesting process.

there are only fifteen more weeks of my youth, and after which, my days of loving will be composed of me talking to myself, only swinging on the swings and tumbling down the stairs I didn't properly ascend.