IF IT CLOGS STOP USING THE SINK

The optimal state of mind would either be when the ears are stuck, a pool of murky water jammed right up to the chest, or eyes closed with itinerant thoughts. Suppositions, perceptions, assumptions, beliefs, anything, just any fucking thing will do - for the perpetual distraction, acts as a punishment for putting myself in an exposed and dire state regularly.  

2016, june, perth

2016, june, melbourne

Your words really don't reflect how you act - I really like that and I really like how it keeps me so jumpy and anxious all the time. I like it, it drives me up the wall and keeps me awake in the morning. It's honestly a really sharp state to be in, going to swim and sitting at the edge of the swimming pool humming to songs: the songs that we kissed and fucked each other to, the songs that I sang at your ear in the morning, afternoon, evening, dawn, and the Frank Ocean album (Channel Orange, to be precise) that we both love, but we don't like each other anymore. I can't accuse your ghosts for haunting me, because I refuse to cut your nose off from my face.

I'm being offered shit loads of apologies these days, to the point that I couldn't decipher what these rueful words are for anymore. I don't even have the nerve or audacity to think, it's just too taxing especially when you're on the verge of realisation. That's the fucking worst. 

2016, october, bangkok

I am never that daughter who plays the piano for guests at home. 

I resemble my dad a lot, the silence when we're not in the mood to talk, but my mom doesn't get it, she doesn't get us. She's always so courteous, to talk or to joke, sometimes I do play along with it but when I'm not at it and I don't reciprocate, I'll feel guilty for being rude but at the same. I'm not a very filial child, I realise that. When I can't shut up, I am always accommodating. When I put my walls down and that is when I keep my mouth shut. 

No one gets my dad and I, no one.