a hard time of year for me, and then i go off and forget to take my meds.

reality seems subjective when i am forced to spend time with my mental “ill-ness”–a chemical imbalance that does not accurately reflect my personal interaction with the reality i am living in.

call it the best/worst/best {worst/best/worst} thing about me.

give me a minute, because this too shall pass.

remember to slow down. remember to breathe. take your medicine. eat green things. dance. ride your bike. read Jeanette Winterson novels until you fucking puke. call your mother. drink less. spend time just alone, breathing. make art. listen to the same Frank Black album until you remember what the stars looked like the last time you saw them (outside the city lights).

become body, not mind. bodily re-integration is jenga. gotta be careful about the memories and emotions that will come out to play.


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