There was a time there was a chance.

Last night I saw a purple light behind a best buy that was now closed, someone I used to know worked there at a time and it was in an area that made me feel like the world hadn't ended already yet everything was slower... I wrote that more beautifully in my head as I woke up this morning waiting to go back to sleep and remember even more later but now I just remember the few seconds or minute I looked at the purple light because I heard a weird clicking noise next to the houses near it and it felt it was someone telling me I had to go. Which isn't fair because I just... wanted to see the purple light. I stood in a place the moon had a crescent smile and It felt like I didn't waste my life.

For a moment It felt like I didn't waste my life. I wasn't an adult at that moment. I was a teen again and I wasn't thinking about what happened to me as a kid or why I didn't achieve anything due to those circumstances and influences linked as a teen. I was just standing there.

I was talking to an imaginary pretty girl that lives in my head and we fight over everything and we talk about everything and I hate myself and I like to believe that even if I hated myself so badly, It or she would still love me–because sometimes I don't feel like I would be strong enough to continue loving.

I went to eat soup. I had pho and I normally get the P1 but got the P3 because this mix didn't have the raw meat still had flanky-flank stuff that makes me feel like I'm eating something crazy expensive even though it's just regularly expensive.

It was cold, mostly the wind I like to believe and I saw the olive garden down the hill and a wall I thought before leaving I wouldn't see again, which I probably won't. I have zero reason whatsoever to be there ever again.

I went there to feel young and somehow I got to feel that for a moment.

I always think about how old I'm getting and how I hope my message reaches someone or one day I'll talk to something else other than the things that are in my head. Someone real that can understand me that I feel I can trust and won't betray me–because thats how I feel. All the time..!

I bought a pre-roll, a silver container I normally call platinum. I gave myself anxiety smoking it because It's legal here to an extent and I had plenty of running away room, I remember complaining because we had to run before, now you can just buy it in stores. I remember making fun of people growing up now because of that. Not to make myself feel lesser, I just–like to believe I had something to due with the legalization.

This post was supposed to be purely about the aesthetic... but I too am an aesthetic... I just wanted to visit my roots because sometimes it feels as if my roots keep getting cut or I am not allowed to succeed or be happy.

I would like to smile someday.

A genuine smile.

I would like to say it was worth it.

I don't want to wait to see if there is an afterlife or not. I want to be able to do something about it now...

Even if I had a new person I am and still am and could be, I feel I am late. I wish I could've learned the guitar earlier. I wish I was smarter. I wish I was something.

I wish I was surrounded by people who loved me and not people who secretly hate me even if they want to believe they love me because I know they don't.

I listened to a song I've been listening to by frou frou–the one that sounds like it's sung by philotes which I call phiotes because I like to believe we are cool like that. The one about writing tragedies and bubblewrap.

I tried not to pay too much attention because I was also experiencing the idea that I am labeled as useless in this world.

There is nothing wrong with me.

Still,

Because I believe in something I am the sick one.

I think of how I am supposed to survive on a less-than $1000 disability check and barely scrape by because it would be better to figure out maybe how to slide by the system than to play for the $7 dollars I was working for when I was working at Giant because I was told it would be good for me. You know? Before I had a choice in what I did with my being. Even so... in a way I still don't because here I am writing about this when I wish I was living in that purple light.

That someone would look at me and write about me so extensively or feel something or remember something or want to live or kill themselves just because I was there.

Being 16, that was also a time... even if all I did was smoke in my car and listen to music and try to dodge work as much as I could to take my 15 minute breaks smoking in my car and trying not to smell in front of the other people when it was still something shunned to do.

I remember a lot of little things that don't matter. Someone said I could invent something one day when I was pushing carts and I looked at him like he was crazy and I was mad about it. I used to steal beer and chicken by putting it under my shirt or in my pants and it was always awesome because it made the high from it a little more valuable and I could smile. Even as I'm listening to music I accidentally/on purpose added that sentence finisher of smile right on que with the music I'm listening too and even if I'm still as emotionless as I feel emotion just to rely what I felt–I can tell that moment was beautiful.

I used to go by Black Sheep but I built up to it. I saw things that would push me even. "Black" written on blue scotch tape randomly on the ground. "Shake" as I also used to go by for myself because no one is actually calling me a self-proclaimed name. I like to say i go by many now.

Is that "i" aesthetic because I forgot to capitalize it?

I can feel myself dying everyday.

Metaphorically, physically... phorically... Metaphysically...

I can feel it.

I am upset and still I am trying to have hope even if I have hope and even if I become a hero, I'm never going to be a hero because it would be the world or something out of this world or nothing or myself calling me a hero or leading me to become one. I don't want to be a hero. I want to be me.

And I don't know how to do that.

and maybe that'll motivate you for what ever reason... someday if not today and maybe not but maybe something will–something will motivate you.

It motivates me to think nothing will motivate you.

If you ever see me with a smile on my face, know; I am not smiling.

The day I smile may be the day the world ends.

I hope you get everything you ever wanted because it's too late for me.

and don't think too much about it.

Have fun–but don't miss out.

It's not hard to put in a little work everyday.

5 minutes, 3 minutes, just a minutes. 30 seconds... to try something new 5 seconds... One moment... to pick up that guitar and do something so stupid or uncalculated or unthought or thought out or however you don't see or want to see or randomness... that in 1 or 3 or 5 or a moment of a day, you will feel as if you can fall in love with it.

You'll remember.

You'll remember something...

Please give up.

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Also... I'm afraid.

I hope I can find a place I can always buy soup and remember I was young.

Even if there is no afterlife because as long as I know there was a purple light or a moment I enjoyed something even if dulled or enhanced to notice something worse or better then...

SOMETHING... Something...

I just wanted you to know that.

You're either never going to smile, or you smile because you're never going to smile.