Plucking on my heartstrings

Lisa met up and hooked up with her ex. Oh god oh fuck. I don’t feel fine at all.

But I do feel as if tomorrow is going to be better.

No joy for the present, but hope Read the rest of this entry

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Charlotte’s fairwell

I waited for two hours, and no one came to the bar.

They said they would be there. My phone’s battery died. I couldn’t call, only hope. No one came.

Two hours.

It’s been suggested that I move through the feelings. I should feel it. The disappointment. The anger. The melancholy. I waited two Read the rest of this entry

Redhead

She’s an idiot with too many emotions spinning in all directions. She’s such a giant fickle ball of wonder and curiosity that withdrawing from her presence feels like going cold Turkey on fun. She’s like the warmness at home that your whole being is looking forward on a cold day. She says such stupid things, but she’s really Read the rest of this entry

Charlton, you

…flirt too much with too many girls. None of them feel special. And that’s the reason none of them take you seriously. “Wrong,” I triumphantly decree. “It’s only one of the reasons they don’t take me seriously. Let’s not forget the self-doubt, the anxiety, the constant desire to place the blame of my own faults on Read the rest of this entry

Steeds

Steeds, steeds, en weereens weer.

Ek maak asof dinge my nie pla nie, maar alles doen. Ek moes daardie oulike rooikop gisteraand soen.

Ek haat myself op die oomblik. Ek het belowe dat ek nie gaan drink nie, en tog is ek hier met ʼn halwe hoofpyn en ʼn hart vol spyt en leeg van ondank.

“Sommige mense, en moenie sleg voel daaroor nie, dink dat

Read the rest of this entry

Alkohol help nie meer nie.

En soos die dronkverdriet insak besef ek dat ek nie alleen is nie, dat daar ander is wat die wêreld in ʼn soortgelyke manier as ek aanvaar. Mense wie se gehoor ook besig is om te gaan omdat hulle nie die stilte kan hanteer nie. Mense wie ook brei, op twee maniere. Mense op wie ek effense gevoelens voor gehad het omdat ek met hulle kon simpatiseer. Mense wat vry met my beste pel.

Mense wie my alleen los met alkohol, wat nie help nie, en my gedagtes, wat nie stop nie.

-Charlton, 8 Junie 2019

1200 woorde

Dit wissel. Die verskil in die afstand in my kruine en trôe verbreed. Ek het tien minute geneem om die korrekte woord vir “kruine” op te soek. Nog vyf minute vir die ASCII kode vir die kappie op die “o” in trôe.

Dit is geen geheim dat my geheue besig is om te vergaan Read the rest of this entry

1000 words

Not because I am manic, but because if I don’t set absolute minimums for myself, the amount of things that would even get done would be way less.

Coffee festival. With Nicole and some random slut she met off Tinder, say I, the sluttiest of them all. “We’re right you know,” she refers to my last post, “you do leave us whenever you get the opportunity.” Do I make bad decisions? Perh Read the rest of this entry

Monique huil

En Charlton is nie die rede nie, maar hy is wel ʼn katalisator. Katalis. Katalisator. Watookal een beter klink.

Charlton gebruik sy emosies om ander mense te manipuleer. Hy kan die gemoed van ʼn kamer verander, na negatief of positief, maar soms Read the rest of this entry

Dreams

Rhea, who calls me “dear” when sober, and finds me “poes hot” when inebriated.

Lisa, who is trying to keep me on a short string while she branch swings to who she really fancies. Lisa, who insists on messaging me every day just to ensure the spot in my heart that was made for her stays open. Lisa, who said, “I guess the magic Read the rest of this entry