streaming

I miss missing you, my old self, feeling the now-ness, and having goals. Dreams are too real, I dream of what is in my head before I close my eyes.

And who are you?  who I have let into my life and let be in and on my head. Its a new kind of introduction to another existence, to me. I don't think I ever knew you. You are a stranger, like the rest. A new yorker, or something. And now its winter and I am beautiful to another [stranger], who cares anyway though because inside I can only feel the surpressed painter, thinker, writer, maker.

Its like water, you know? Or like the beach from my experience, different waters touch the sand perpetually and the same water from before is now miles away. Just like that super fast, and you dont even remember it because the new water is the same as the one that touched the same land a minute ago. Like growth, SORT of. It feels like that.