grey[dot]matters.

the [s p a c e s] in between.

“stolen moments”

dreamin’ ’bout you
i keep dreamin’ bout you
when i’m dreamin’ ’bout when you would say

4 minutes 51 seconds:

we can go.”

Filed under: him., memories., music.,

fuck me sideways.

today
has been
absolutely shitty!

i miss him even more.
i don’t know if it’s even more, because it’s the end of the year
i don’t know if it’s even more, because it’s winter
i don’t know if it’s even more, because this separation makes sense
or because it makes…

ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING SENSE TO ME…AT ALL!

[context and understanding and growth are important here…but i don’t feel like explaining.
i feel like being emotional and dramatic and that is okay].

today…i am tired.
and hyper sensitive.

the fact of the matter is…

i need him. i always needed him, but i need him.
i belonged to him.
i belonged to us.
no matter how strong i feel and how strong I AM⎯on my own,
strength on my own
without him to share it with…especially in moments like this…when i don’t feel
necessarily
strong
. . .feels⎯at times, hollow.
undirected.
without purpose.

just…

today has been absolutely shitty.
and i miss him.

mutually exclusive.

i want to share my shitty day with someone him and feel heard
and listened to. and even if he says nothing or just, “okay”, or talks me through it⎯

i still just want to share.

say, “good night” and “we’ll talk later.”

feel kept. i want to feel…no matter how minuscule my shitty day was on a larger scale…it was my day and it mattered.

and today
was an absolutely
shitty day.

Filed under: him., rants.

“…searching for completion.”

months
drenched in internal inquires.
i went looking for the answers
and stumbled upon a meager revelation.

albeit⎯

a disruptive and relentless heavy.

dreams deferred.
memories of hope
the hope for more…the collective not considered or included.
individual dreams for
the respective individual mattered more.

discovery: sore balls. nervous energy⎯ascension.
no mention or detail into feelings or
BEings. [that has and always will matter].
and even though i “…love your colors.”
your “…many different, crazy colors…
with data in black and white
your story, now
only in black and white

details are minced and lost in a monochrome translation.

searching for the narrative behind your hieroglyphics
…i become
sick. overwhelmed.

unwell

and filled.

understanding: communal property is sacred and never to be dug into
even if oil lies beneath.

truth: insider trading is the sole source to my wealth.

concluding.’ - e.badu

armed with a loaded intent…weighted perception.
encouragement⎯lifeline: allowing for reciprocation.
i: breathe. breathe. breathe.

[patience is a trait i am still working on].

sitting amongst solitary hope
for the matters of the individual.

mindful that all matter matters and love
will determine the road i next travel.

Filed under: him., thoughts.

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back in the day (puff)

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