mckenzington

In a life of inconsistencies, let me describe to you something real. You're with family and friends and your face feels flushed. The light is low and yellow and the sky outside is a beautiful dark colour and if you looked outside too long you would find yourself aching for the sight of stars. The city is buzzing, pulsing like a separate living entity, vitality seeping out at the edges like a ripe fruit - but all that has been stifled to a feeble lull. The city still exists as it is - but you have forgotten this. You don't care what your hair looks like, how frizzy or out of place it is or how wide and toothy your smile happens to be and every person is warm while everything else is cold. Things feel so genuine that nothing else could possibly matter. Of course, your family has flaws. They have conflicts and discrepancies that soil the underside of the cushioned seats where they were so expertly shoved. You don't have a lot of money. There are people out there who, if g

I feel like I'm being crushed, but in the least violent sense of the word. I feel like someone has flattened me, folded me up neatly with aligned corners and gently placed me in a box. And all the while I'm terrified because of their calm face and my panicked eyes and my heart is beating so fast, so fast and oh god I don't think I can breath but they're so calm and this box is so safe yet why am I scared I'm so scared-- And then I wake up with sweaty palms and reality floods into the deep shallow of everything and for a second there is only relief, raw and real. My head is soft against the pillow. Then the thought of it lingers. It lingers, like a loose thread. It hangs there, and never leaves. Loyalty in the most violent sense of the word. My thread. I am burning myself with my own intensity, derived from every doubt and every word and every wet goodbye. In the way that the wave of a hand and the blink of an eye is wet and chaotic and far from beautiful. Fa