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To lay in your spinning bed and hear white noise, to not know the burdens of life, of knowledge, of heartbreak, of longing, of all the everythings that constitute life... wow. There's a gnat flying helplessly into my monitor, the only beacon of light in this otherwise eclipsed shelter, and I don't have the heart to tell him he can't go that way. I don't have the heart to push my thumb up against him and end his 8-week lifespan either. I don't want him to ruin the inner workings of my fingertips, because then I won't want to capture them on tape anymore. That's how I feel. Nobody has the heart to tell me I'm going the wrong way. Nobody has the heart to push their thumb to me and put me away because they don't want to get their hands dirty.
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