I always love staying up way too late. That point in the morning when everything else is quiet and your brain is slowly losing the fight against reality in favor of some sort of half delusioned optimism. Everything seems more meaningful. More like things felt when I was a kid.

Somebody once said that to live a purposeful life it helps to have a defined narrative of what your life has already been. I wish I could say I have a narrative but mostly I just think it was a shit show. And I don't see that changing any time soon. Money has been pretty tight lately and Its really been dragging me down. Aside from that I feel like there isn't any room for me to breath. To be me. I'm not sure who that is anymore. I spent a lot of my life trying to be some sort of "good." But the more I tried to be good the more I realized I was doing it for some sort of reward and I wasn't getting anything in return. Losing that part of me that strived to be vaguely wholesome is equally as exhausting. Maybe the truth is I just want to be noticed.

Maybe I'm just rambling