Day 01

You know you’re alive very time you get up. That moment floating through consciousness, where you’re aware enough to know you’re awake but not functioning enough to give a shit. You’re just remembering to breathe and you aren’t quite thinking, only squinting because it’s too bright, listening to your heart hammering against your chest. Breathe in, breathe out. Then you move the wrong way, or stretch for too long, and you come crashing down. Your moment gets ruined by anxieties  and fears, and this gnawing sense of being uninspired and not being articulate, or intelligent enough, to express it coherently. You’ve always felt empty and only recently, you’ve been learning why. — scribbled at 4am


Skye genuinely inspires me. My four year old niece is this bundle of energy and innocence and that hyper awareness you used you hold for the world around you. I wake up daily and practice the same routine: left leg straight, don’t step on it, hobble around and push responsibilities, push the real world outside for a bit. Until you can walk, until the scar that runs diagonal, that takes up the space underneath your knee, looks less pink and raw, until you can pretend that it isn’t noticeable. A lot has happened, and I’m thankful that one of us has kept Dolce de Skye alive. I promise to be around more, that Oscar post is months late, but it’s coming, and I have a lot to say. I’m grasping to figure out how to say it.


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