the brief.

i have poured everything of myself into rough scribbles and words drawn and written on scrap pieces of papers and the screen in front of me, eraser shavings and pencil indents, backspaces and edit buttons. i wish i could undo and unravel and dream and write and immerse myself in nature and never let go of anything ever. and there are moments when i look around my environment and realize how utterly beautiful everything and everyone is. and i feel like a dust speckle floating aimlessly around in the wind, and seeing the world from a bird's eye view. i could never describe myself in three words because the workings of my brain are a mixture of light and sound and pain and love, all at once circling around like a carousel. i have this cycle where i continuously meet new people, but never create a bond and they go as they please and it's painless and numbing and i like that. i realize how the world would be if we exchanged our souls with each other and have control over bodies other than our own. i have hurt so many people and for that i am truly sorry. so many people have also hurt me with darts and needles that were stabbed into my heart. and wounds have healed. but lessons weren't learned. almost everything i ever think about or talk about is random, strange, and incomprehensible. and no one can understand why i ramble on and on, but that's okay. because i write and i act and i love not for others but for myself, i have the privilege of owning myself like everything else. but, i get detached and question, every single day, who the fuck i am. i still have no clue.

-flb.