epilogue (noun)

a section or speech at the end of a book or play that serves as a comment on or a conclusion to what has happened.

well damn, what DID happen?

i forget sometimes that this place exists.

and by sometimes, i mean pretty much all the time.

it's shockingly easy to get distracted

in this deep banality of film

most of us do the same shit day after day.

i can't even remember what i had for lunch

yesterday.

i made it a pact to leave this up on my profile.

there's not much to hide, and it's ironically comforting

to have graduated, so that i have some degree of

distance.

whether or not you skipped to this section

or took the time to read everything,

it's cool that you're here anyways.

i mean think about it:

chances are 

you're alive.

and you have family to love.

and you have friends to love.

and you have school to attend.

and you have work to do.

and you have music to listen to.

and you have videos to watch.

and you have books to read.

and you have games to play.

and yet, you're here anyways. 

fate? or an infinitely improbable

yet still possible 

set of

coincidences.

it would be a lie to say i have nothing to hide.

if that were the case, i wouldn't have written poems

because people who write poems always keep secrets (pro tip)

i just don't like being a secret teller.

but it would also be a lie to say i have everything to share.

my life is probably just as pleasantly boring as

yours.

i just like to write.

writing gives me a piece of mind.

also it's a lot less expensive than therapy

and i hate the idea of going to therapy.

i don't vent to friends

so why would i want to vent to a

stranger?

my current biggest concerns are

getting these secondaries submitted,

getting my work schedule sorted,

and getting my new chair.

because holy shit my back is killing me.

hopefully, your problems right now are

as trivial as

mine.

farewell, friend or stranger.

get back to doing something

useful with your life, will ya?

bye bye.

2025.08.07 //;;