Midnight, January 13, 2020. Now playing is “Blue Monk” by Thelonious Monk.
This recent evening I watched Parasite for the second time and it made me sick. How long have the poor been seen as parasites? How long is it gonna take until we get our shit together and overcome the powers that be?
This atrocity has gone this long in the history of Earth, and I sometimes feel I have no reason to expect it to go any differently.
I feel the same about me. I have found a good rhythm. I have found an amazing person. But I feel my mental health dissolves what I love the most. How patient is this person going to be with the time alone I need to keep myself well?
This is one of many reasons why I feel I shouldn’t be close to people. Sometimes, I view myself as a parasite.
- Will they even see the world as I see it? How will they face the reality of despair when there is nowhere else to drain your brain?
- Will they still see me the same after they see me at my most vulnerable?
I am cold. I am constantly hurting. My lens is blue. And I don’t want to feel this anymore. Love or death. That is the only way out. So far I keep picking love.
Jazz Hands of Death