4 a.m. again

I can’t sleep. I keep doing addition in my head, and the pieces fly around. and the pieces get heavy and dive-bomb me. I’ve been here before. I’m leaving soon. everything is unimaginable at this hour. I write notes to friends that are laden with melancholy and dissatisfaction and then send them. then regret that they weren’t cheerier. this trend leads to self-isolation, and I don’t want to do that again, not just yet. it’s not really that I want to be alone, tho I make it that way. sometimes, being alone is a thing you do with leftovers. work the upside. which doesn’t necessarily make it chosen. see what I mean about the middle of the night? yeah. I guess this is where paper journal steps in. sarah out. xo.

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