I am starting to relish the idea that I might look lame on Facebook to other people. That I might look antisocial and withdrawn and uninteresting on the internet. Because lately the last thing I want is the opposite of those.
I don’t want anyone to know anything about me. The more I change and the more I draw inside myself, the less people know me, and the more powerful I feel. I am private. Internal. Powerful.
Tonight I laid on the carpet in the dark and listened to Everything is Talking by The Long Winters and felt all at once like a caricature of myself, and that I could just stay in that warm and fuzzy place forever and not care about anything else ever again. I don’t care about anything. I want to not. I like to not. All I need is this feeling.
Sometimes I stand in the shower and think about how pointless it all is. But I don’t even care. I just keep washing my hair or face or whatever it is I’m doing. Then I get out and I get dressed and I do something else. It’s beautiful isn’t it?
I really really really like not caring. I am much less concerned with being happy these days. Which is sad? But it’s honestly a nice change. I like the cozy little darkness that is my head these days.
I don’t know why, and I just don’t care to dissect it. I just don’t care at all.
(Source: Spotify)













