Sometimes, I wonder why I feel so little love. Then, I remember that I am unloveable, so I stop worrying about it.

The sky is quite dark nowadays. The nights never seem to hold still anymore. It just is, and I just am. It is the same shadow that I have come to know all throughout my life. I am tired. I still wish that I could be with the night, but it is, and I am. So noisy are the sounds of crickets. The ringing of the screechers. The screams. So beautiful. This past month seemed to have flown by so quickly. I have so little idea where I am now. It passed, and I passed along with it. Where did it go… the time? I wish I could experience it at all.

So often does it feel that the world passes by me. I feel so little change. Freshmen are moving into the Quadrangle now. I pass by them on my way home. It was three years ago when I was moving in. It seemed like three years ago. What has happened since then? I don’t know. I don’t know. The world has changed around me. The people in my life has changed. But, then there is me. I have not changed. I am still the same. I seem to exist with time but not in time. It is the time that has passed, and there my being in time. I can perceive my existence moving through time. Is that time?

I remember, so many years ago, I had considered going to college in Philly to be underrated because it allowed me to see all of my friends whenever they would have a break regardless to whether I had a break or not. It was something I had valued back then. So long ago did I feel that. It seems now that there was so little point in feeling what I did before. The idea of people coming in and out of my life — it is an idea that I have so thoroughly ingrained within my intuition. Each time I come back, I catch up with fewer people than I had a year previously. There is less to talk about. Is this the future?

I used to hang out at General Wayne Park with so many people. Every time there would be a break, I would catch up with all of my high school friends (at least, the individual ones) at General Wayne Park. As such, General Wayne Park seems to exist as a capsule of time, observing the progression of my friends and I through time. It does not have memories attached to it — I never did anything notable in General Wayne Park — at least, not after I graduated high school — but it seems to exist for the sake of existing, regardless to the passage of time. It is timeless. I am not timeless. My friendships are not timeless. All will fade except General Wayne Park.

I listen to different music now than I did a year ago and the year before that. I have stopped listening to pop music. How unfortunate. I used to listen to so much pop music. Now, it seems that pop music does not garner the same appeal that it once did. I listen to a lot of indie music now. How unfortunate. I have become one of those. It is quite sad, really. I did not want to become one of those, but I am one of those now. There is so much in my life that did not go the way that I planned. It is so sad, yet so beautiful. Amor Fati. Amor fatty. So much to change. So much I wished I could live differently. So little to love.

I am listening to this song right now, and all I could think about are the names that no longer roll of my tongue;

My views on love — how quickly have those changed. So optimistic. So sad. So sad. So sad. There was this quote that I head awhile back. It went something along the lines of, “Within every pessimist, there was once a failed optimist.” Right now, I feel that. So much potential. So little. Is it a surprise that the world has become the way that it has become? It was only a couple of years ago that I approached the world with such enthusiasm, hoping that I would be able to reconcile my innate unlovability through some tricks of my personality. It is only now that I realize it was all a futile attempt. I was not destined to be loved. I should stop trying.

I am having trouble sleeping again. How unfortunate. It is one of these moments again. I had trouble sleeping last year too. And the year before that. There were a couple of moments I realized that I had a lot of trouble sleeping. I had a lot of trouble sleeping freshman year. I had a lot of trouble sleeping sophomore year. I got some sleep junior year, for the most part. It does not seem that senior year is off to a great start. What year of college has ever been off to a great start? Actually, junior year was off to a great start. I miss junior year, when the world was more kind, when things were more certain.

Sometimes, I just want to be taken. Perhaps that is the appeal of BDSM. It is not so much the submission that causes excitement. It is not so much the trust that is involved either. Perhaps, it is just the thrill of dying. Hands wrapped around your throat. Grasping for air. The possibility of dying. The ecstasy. The light at the end. It is so close yet so far. The sweetness of death. It is a taste. I miss the taste of death. So close. So far. So permanent. Such is the feeling that waits for me at the end. I wish death would hurry up, so I could taste it once more. Death is the taste of sex.

So quick is death. So timeless is death. So quiet. So kind.