I'm remembering why, now,

why I was reluctant in the first place

to catch up on journaling-

meaning writing about

(meaning reliving)

Columbia stuff

and I know I oughtn't be this distraught

there are bad things in this world

and my qualms pale in comparison

but still, for me, this was something

and I have to give myself breaks between journaling

since my heart is good at

propelling me back to moments that make me feel deeply

(and I'm thankful that it has this talent sometimes)

but I don't want to be stuck in a Starbucks on Dearborn

staring out a window into the blackness of 5:00 AM

having to remind myself it'll all be over soon

having to remind myself that my family will be here soon to rescue me

doing things like gorging on chips

and comparing myself to my fictional darlings

in a half-assed attempt of coping with whatever it was that held my soul captive

I don't need to be there right now

I'm in my apartment in Saint Paul

things did, in fact, get better

but I'm the sort that feels the need to document their life

for better and for worse

but instead of moving forward

I'm finding myself looking up Chicago locations on google maps

and retching within myself

screaming

"this was supposed to work out

but you had to be a coward

so many had it worse

and they're doing fine

but you're dwelling

cause you can't even listen to the advice given

by the fictional darling you were comparing yourself to-

... just drink your stuff and catch up with journaling

then we can maybe stand a chance at progressing forward

instead of letting bigotry and mediocrity drag you back

come on now-

pull yourself together for once"

and so I'm trying to.