22 years old and lost my soul a little bit.
I need to start doing more of the things that make me feel alive.
Trouble is, I don’t know what they are.
If you are humble nothing will touch you, neither praise nor disgrace, because you know what you are.
"Agustus Waters died eight days after his prefuneral…"
I can’t keep reading. It took my breath away in an all too familiar way.
Been thinking about Matt a lot lately. How my life will always be in relation to September. And I get angry that he died. That my life will always be moving toward September, like a dog on a leash with their heels dug in. And it will never not take my breath away or make me numb. But then again, I don’t want to forget.
I guess in a twisted way, it’s a privilege to hate September and wish it didn’t exist. It’s a privilege.