Friend.

It's almost 2AM and I'm here in our kitchen table, sleepy but writing this. I'm trying my best to write again. This part of me has always been so easy to come by. But now, it feels so foreign. Even writing this mind fart seems a little bit weird. I'm hoping to get the hang of this. I'm gonna talk to you as if you're a person because if you're reading this, chances are you ARE a human being unless you're an alien, then shoo. You don't know how being a human is. Go away.


So, hello, Buttered Thoughts. It has been a looong while. I have written a small mindfart to your sister a week ago but writing there just feels... public. You, however, are my private diary located in the interwebs. No one knows where you are. But you matter to me. Because I know that whatever I write here, will not be judged. Thanks, BT.

I'll write more poetry. I'll TRY tom at least. Things will get better. I hope things get better.