asha greyjoy asha gryjoy ashe greyjoy aashe greyjoy ashe greyjoy ashe greyjoy aSHEA GREYJOY ASHA GREYJOY ASHA GREYJOY
AYYYYYYYYYYYYY fuck u hbo
shoutout to all the other ex-gifted & talented/honor student/straight a/senior editor/star student/99th percentile/once-creative burn-outs who have, since high school, realized they are truly miniscule fish in a giant, endless ocean, criticized themselves to the point of creative paralysis, and participated in so much self-sabotage they no longer see the point of doing anything at all because they’re just going to ruin it for themselves anyway
this one’s for you
Amalia; "happiness is a journey not a destination" but sadness is.
It is in the form of track marks gliding across your melting face - never
going anywhere, always staying put. Oh Amalia - why don’t you come over for dinner?
It’s weighing down on you, the bags under your eyes carrying broken pieces of a broken future and you’ve tried to catch them all but your faith in God never promised a perfect result. My mother says you used to be beautiful but I still see it - I still notice the sharpness of the corners of your mouth.
All is well, life is moving, and there are breaths that I catch and hold.
Amalia - why do you move away when we try to touch you? You twitch to the left - smile struggling like your gums are growing too largely for your mouth. Your stringy grey hair sticks out and while you talk about your husband and love, you pull one out and wrap it around your tiny index finger.
My father told me you used to love designing clothes. From blouses to flour - and - up-dos to cold showers. I am looking at you Amalia, you are a road map. You are a tear. You are the last resort.
That was so long ago, ha. I had a better frame, and better eyes.
Your smile is constant, like an alarm, touching every period of every one of my mother’s sentences but you’re tired. All you want to do is go home but neither here nor there is anything at all. A busy intersection of thoughts.
Let us give you a ride, Amalia. Let us feed you dinner.
I want you to stop smiling on cue. It will take away from pleasure as you realize it is only hiding for pain.
My mother said you two were best friends - that life takes its toll - that wow, what has time done to her? And Amalia, time treats us all differently but time also has put us back together.
Come over, please, for dinner.
I’m tired, too.