I Have A Thousand Hearts

I've been feeling all dreamy lately and I've been drawing dreamy stuff in my journal. I really like drawing arms and hands for some reason. I think they're a really pleasing shape to draw. Maybe I just have a morbid interest in cartoonish detached limbs. I'm not sure.

I love all these pen colours so much that every time I use them I'm in this perpetual state of colour-based wonder and awe and I'm starting to think the sun has seeped into my brain and pooled in my head somehow, because I feel so sunny. I see happy little things everywhere.

I get this feeling like I am bigger than myself, like I'm part of every piece of light and intrinsically connected with the world in some way. Like I'm indestructible and miniscule and broken into tiny pieces and scattered across a sunset all at once. Sense of self makes no sense. I think deconstructing my sense of self makes me feel stronger. I am a person but I am also just a culmination and focus of time and energy and chemicals, and a part of existence itself. It calms me a lot to think that. It also calms me a lot to draw hearts and flowers, and to look at cool pictures of insects online.


Thank you so much for your comments, especially if they include limericks about skeletons.