Interlude: Conversations & Observations

finally got some sleep last night because I finally gave into the anxiety and finally fed it the purple it was after— not to read: gave up; to read: didn’t spiral as big.

Do you ever think if blood is blue in the body, and red when it comes out, that at some point it must be purple? Maybe that’s why my body reads purple sometimes.

Everyone gets in a tizzy turned tornado, but convinces me I’m spinning.

I want another.

I try really hard to be aware because it is a super slippery slope.

Everything gets in a tizzy turned tornado; I am one of those things.

Have you ever seen the Vampire Diaries?

Have you ever been home alone?

Have you ever invited a Vampire in to say “hello”?

Today I’m not making my bed even though it’s a weekday (which are the days I always make my bed)

small steps on: war in change, targeting: grace in forgiveness, letting go.

do you ever feel like hiding under your desk? as if it will protect you from the avalanche that is coming? from the switched off vampires that seek you out again? from the suffocating routine of making your bed infinitely?

the weather changes.

yes vampire

But also no.

Because we know more now,

And we feel things more deeply.

Switched off is still on.

We know more now,

it’s just sharper. Like a fang.

Reveals the purple between the blue and the red.

Home alone isn’t so alone.

Sleep brings a lot of willpower. Almost that of a switched off vampire. Sleep takes a lot of willpower. More than that of a switched on vampire.

Purple is a color I think about a lot. Red is a color I think about a little. Blue is the color that I see through.

Stop confusing anxiety with impatience. Stop confusing purple with the red or the blue.

Realize you’ve been bamboozled by a growing need for retail therapy, a joke. A delayed spiral.

Even vampires can be beautiful. Even icefall can be bewitching.

Sometimes, to truly know how far you’ve come, the universe sends a lil deja vu your way; gives you the chance to be graceful about it.

Delayed grace.

A tizzy turned tornado of purple seeking deja vu and a wooden stake. Not grace — see, nostalgia; see, vengeance; see, timesuck.

Red heart flutters,

because we know more now;

Blue tears skip,

because we feel things more deeply.

The vampires visit because we stay up at night to say hi.

It doesn’t always work out, sometimes it is a race through a snowstorm, we know the avalanche is on its way, my head spiraling

because we feel things more deeply.

Delayed grace, sans vengeance.

Finally.