if love doesn’t kill me, i’ll be lonely as a king with everything

those fragile, gossamer threads that hold me here. my life is built on unsteady foundations.

an unhinged, stupid love. it’s like freaking stockholm syndrome, the facts don’t support it and yet it holds, because i rely on it for survival. for reals, if i really thought certain people didn’t love me, i’d probably expire out of pure careless joy. their love holds me here, because i guess i love them in return, because i don’t want to hurt them.

i’m living in circles, writing in circles.

elsie’s grandmother died. does everyone fake sadness for people, or is it just my quirk? i do care very much for elsie, but i don’t know. i feel bad that she feels bad, but not really. more like in a ritualized way. i actually googled things to say other than sorry for your loss because sorry for your loss was taken by like everyone commenting on her facebook status, and i don’t want it to sound disingenuous, which it is.

elsie’s just not one of the people holding my life in their hands.

for a few flashbulb-brilliant moments, i am crazy passionate about things, and then there are brief times like this when i just wanna wallow in apathy. i keep up appearances, in that same ritualized way. but whatevs.

i’m not bad, i’m just indifferent sometimes. people don’t do bad things, usually, out of indifference. or maybe that’s when we’re all at our worst.

passion, or indifference, which is the larger evil? who’s to tell? probably not me..