The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

One Art - Elizabeth Bishop (via fuck-yeah-existentialism)

The weirdest thing ever happened today. I got super happy and started thinking about sad things and it was impossible for me to feel that sinking feeling. I noticed some tears rolling down my cheek. Eyes completely wide. No sadness. Just silent tears that I couldn’t feel.

Yep. Happy. Sorta. I guess.

I need a hug. Keep. Almost crying. But it’s cool. I’ll… Be happy soon enough.

Ben Folds is really wrecking me right now.

Well. Extemp speeches high as fuck.

Chain smoking in the morning is great, I guess.

School should suck. Going to sleep and go home and die. Uhm. I don’t know why I’m so sad. But it happens, you know? I get really excited and happy and then. I fall. That’s just how life works for me.

No. I’m gonna try and sleep. Anyway. Agh… Maybe that’ll help. Gonna get up early I suppose.