small, but bigger than anything I could say about it.
I'm insecure enough to know that a movie review like that isn't enough for people. So. There's something about how hard it is, where kindness is nebulous and unquantifiable and maybe I was never so kind and maybe nobody who says they're kind is really all that kind. And maybe being a simpleton or an idiot isn't enough. Maybe it is a shame god cares more about if you punch a cop than if some farm animal dies. Emptiness comes and goes with me, the medication I've tried doesn't work and the stuff that does is impairing and illegal where I grew up. I'm afraid I'm at an age where it feels like too much is meaningless, and at times even the stuff that is beautiful does nothing for me. I snap out of it pretty often, it's fine. But a grudge holds on no matter what. I've moved halfway across the world and it followed me here. Because it hurts to hold and feels good at the same time. It gives me purpose when most things seem to have none. I saw little pidgeon tracks in the snow today and thought how beautiful they were, and I wish those were enough to live for. Little moments