Rainy. Again.
My hair pinned back so only my untrimmed bangs obscure the view of my feet and the concrete. Rain splashes off the asphalt. And it's so cold with my headphones in. Songs played twice in a row. "Karen" and "Start A War". I can feel the cold wet on the back of my shoulder as drops merge, beginning to soak through.
I wonder sometimes if it's okay to be so self-aware and so curious. This constant examination led to the conclusion that, really, no one will know me or remember me forever. Maybe it's okay to be slightly narcissistic considering how few people will ever worship you fully, no? ha. How the face changes. How the music defines this very moment. How unique observations still somehow belong to the collective. It's an odd fascination with the evolution of self. You know me. But later, after I'm gone, only in words or in pictures. And then, when you're gone, who will care?
Please hold me closer.
I wonder sometimes if it's okay to be so self-aware and so curious. This constant examination led to the conclusion that, really, no one will know me or remember me forever. Maybe it's okay to be slightly narcissistic considering how few people will ever worship you fully, no? ha. How the face changes. How the music defines this very moment. How unique observations still somehow belong to the collective. It's an odd fascination with the evolution of self. You know me. But later, after I'm gone, only in words or in pictures. And then, when you're gone, who will care?
Please hold me closer.