INKtober seventeeth

i just feel so sad
i cry
& i don’t
know why
but still
the tears come
will there come
a time
when my very being
is not
composed
entirely
of tears?
just because i open
my heart
does not mean
i am someone
you know
i am
quite
unknown
possibly
unknowable
i don’t want to be
alone
but maybe i
cannot
be
anything
but the loneliest person you have ever met.

i still haven’t recovered from the show the mysteries of laura being cancelled…you know, three years ago–but i just found it on netflix and i know it isn’t really that great of a show…but i was emotionally invested nonetheless. c’mon–i’ve seen every episode ever of friends (when originally aired even!) you know i have my shallow bits.

okay.
so i know it has everything to do with dusty & my lingering love for him. my hope for a thing called “us.”
though there is every chance in the world that i will never be successful in any relationship ever.
but who is? you ask. well, from where i’m sitting…everyone.
or i feel like everyone i see is successfully human & relate-able while i am some funky misshapen thing from outer space….

i don’t feel like arting & inking…but i did this anyway–because it is inktober & i’m trying not to be a drop out because how fucking hard is it for someone with my neurotic & compulsive inking habits to not ink something every day?

i am not sure my art journal page nor my blog about it makes any sense today. but, you know, i’m more worried about what the fuck i am going to disappear into on netflix now that i have watched every episode of the mysteries of laura….