A snapshot of my insanity and happiness all rolled into one. My happiness at being insane? I think so.
The moment you realize that your brain is not nearly big enough for all the memories you’d like to keep.
Sometimes you just need to hold yourself, because there’s a lot in you that you’re afraid of slipping out; the sad little things that sit in the corners of your heart asking to be analyzed like fossils from a prehistoric age. It’s alright. My body is a museum that I have kept well preserved, and my insides are stories of the animals - the friends, lovers and strangers - that have made wreckage here. I breathe in and out to keep the wild ghosts at bay. I will not slip up yet.
