i’m announcing a minor defeat.. i dont have much time left. i think i just need to take in the quiet richness of accepting that i do not matter, i will not be remembered: that i have not put in either the work or 1:1 time with people.. i don’t know why i had this deep fantasy that was very easily readable, that i explicitly asked for when it took all of me to ask, to like – be said goodbye to like i never was able to say goodbye to manila. to be acknowledged, if not even understood. i knew that i wouldn’t be understood. not that there’s anything to read or make of me. i’m so easy. but if not 4 years or 2 or even 1 i haven’t even really been in new haven at all, or have had the chance to live.. a life. i am constantly distancing myself from people because i feel immense guilt and sorrow for anyone who knows me; i have nothing to give, not even my presence, and fail on all accounts. i t thhink in many ways many systems have failed me but most of this is myself — but i also want to say that who am i to blame when i’ve spent so long trying.. this is cyclic and silly and it must be the immortal plague of the young one to feel both infinite respite and infinite fear at how every problem they have is something lived through; yet i must have been dealt and a maker of all the right ones for me to not be able to take it anymore after 22 years. i have so many deep —— fantasies and if there’s anything i’m good for it’s making what i imagine real.