1.11

be super vulnerable and awkward and ruin things

I am a thief because I stole that from my very good very friend.
I am also not a thief because it is something I would say to him.
Do opposites attract, or is it birds of a feather? Someone should make up our minds for us. My mind is filled with beautiful thoughts that can't be articulated except by the most painstaking work by a puppeteer who is well versed in wood and cloth and glue. Or maybe it's articulation like words, but the thought has just collapsed when I touched it, and maybe my entire train of thought is actually like that, and the puppet master is working with materials that are disintegrating in the sun.
Have you? uh
Ever seen anything so beautiful that you don't know how to put it to words? Or like, you just didn't want to, because if you did, you know that somehow you wouldn't get it all?  I mean you would need watercolors to approach the fire bruise of the most fantastic sunset you've ever seen and you would just keep painting as its subtlety grew and its power grew until you were just washing over a hundred darkening layers with the deepest blue-black in your kit until the palette is untouched untouched untouched untouched empty where the black used to be and you look at it and it's your life, now, on the old page, an india ink palace where once there was glory-rose and dandelion bloom and you've hidden the subtlety just far enough under the surface that nobody has the chance to see it but you. And maybe that's good, you know. Maybe it's good to have an experience so beyond transmission that you just know you'll never be able to give it to another person unless they were there with you, and then to wake up from your reverie and realize that you've been alone this whole time and no one else will ever see what you're seeing right now and you're so desperate: so frantic to absorb a multitude worth of lifetimes' enjoyment out of this second and a half of fading light because you'll never be able to give it to the scattered billions of people who needed it, and now, somehow (without irony) you're the only one who's got it.
The only one who will ever

And maybe that's okay, I guess, because you haven't ruined things after all, for all your fumbling, and all your pain, you've solved this moment because it's yours.