I want to be lonely.

I'm feeling a little like a giant throat that has something lodged in it. Blocked at the output outlet. My mind is whirring, whirring, but nothing is coming out. It's much more frustrating than just being stuck, uninspired, etc. When that's the case, I sort of just succumb, and enjoy the one-dimensionality, things as things are. I lick envelopes. I scrub floors. I consume. And it's all fine.

But this. This is hard. I keep trying to trick myself out of it, but it isn't working. I feel very unlovable. I feel like I need to go to some remote place and stay there for a week, really let some insistent loneliness settle in, seal off all the exits, smoke the words out of myself. If only for some companionship.

When you need the words as friends, that's when they come. Right now they're just trinkets I think.