What would it be like, to have the time and the energy to write all of the stories running around in my head? To not have to worry about school (which I grow to hate more each day), or anything else in the world. To not feel so deep in an emotional void that I cannot see the way out, every emotion is exhausting and most of the time I do not feel any of them (certainly not the way I used to). To not be so exhausted that even getting out of bed feels like too big of a task, let alone basic self care and all the school work that just keeps piling up.
What would it be like if my biggest worry was writing, bringing to life the stories I so desperately want to share? If I could spend my life using my words to make others happy, and feel like even for a moment that they are seen.
And other musings of a 7am Elliot who has yet to sleep (but really I’m about to I promise).