a graffitied wall in the city
the cat that sits on my wall
an injured bird that my dad and i rescued (that is now free)
my new (half-Japanese) friend's shoes on which she drew herself
i love the city rush so much
i might feel, i might be loved but i cannot be bothered enough to feel anything for anybody because that will consume me, my mind, far too much
and i need me
it is such an impossible thought for me to be loved, such a foreign concept that i wonder if i am broken.