Dear, amen, dear, amen, dear, amen Dear, amen, dear, amen Dear…
I remember being aware enough by high school to know I was just looking for patterns that didn’t exist. That this behavior manifested from stress.
It’s fine if it’s an odd number…
Move one.
I purposely scraped my foot against the ground… “three four”, feeling the rough texture of the concrete catch against my heel. The sound grounded me, even as the city lights scattered across my vision like broken glass - red, green, and blue fragments painting everything in electric watercolors.
Well she just told me I need to process this differently Yeah ok Because that’s exactly what I need right now - life advice from someone who alphabetizes their spice rack
The crosswalk signal blinked its endless countdown, numbers I used to find comfort in now just another reminder of time slipping through my fingers. Everyone else seemed to move with purpose, while I…