people

“I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.”

-sylvia plath

it scares me how one can never know how real a person is and i just get so exhausted when dealing with people sometimes i wish i could have more solitude, because at the very least i know that i can trust myself, even if i am existing in another realm of the world: i rather believe in the idea of myself than an idealistic conception of fallible people who are inherently carnal

still struggling to find an anchor point but the moon just gets fuller: the currents get stronger & i can't find anything in me, or in the seaweed-strewn sea to hold on

instead the clammy hands of the weeds estrange me: they choke me & leave me utterly repulsed

nothing keeps me 

(& i cannot help feeling i've been played to subject myself to this predicament, all the 'promises' coined with mere air, the hyperbole of rejoicing: all these empty things which were instrumental in my decision, all these empty things which vanished into nothingness like the substance of their wretched beings, yet this place of struggle is where You ordain me to be- h e l p)