words dump

there is always an overwhelming urge to delete all my blogs and erase myself from everyone's browser history and find out who will care enough to remember. if all my words really do leave an imprint or an impact and if i really do change lives because maybe i'm just too naive to see the difference. a few months from now, i don't think i will be the chryss that everyone knows at the moment. or at least, who you think i am. i am constantly changing, trying to make myself better but maybe somewhere along the way, making myself worse. i don't know how to write without sounding like i'm an accident waiting to happen but i know where my heart lies most of the time. but maybe come october, i will no longer know the path that leads to where i truly wanna go and i end up writing poems about wanting to be safe, about wanting to stay inside comfort zones where i have no trouble breathing but the air is a recycled mess of oxygen used up and gone to waste. and i'm pretty sure my priorities will change, how i see the world will change, how i talk to people will change and maybe there are some things that will stay -- like the way i spend so much time taking showers and how i never know how to keep my things tidy because my mind is always a messy place -- but at the end of the day, i'm really scared about losing myself and forgetting who i once was and not being able to remember the things that matter right now. it's all a part of life, a way of the universe, entropy working its magic with its lack of predictability but it's scary to think about. i've always had some sort of trouble one way or another with letting go because sometimes i care too much that it hurts and this is something i've spent nights thinking about and never having anyone to talk to about them. this is the result.