a rotting corpse. i used to be that man.

red is my favourite colour. has been a while.

everything i own is purple. some old things i own are green. even a few old clothes are brown. (edit: these clothes dont even fit me anymore and i wish they would so bad this isnt related to anything but dude i had this really cute skirt and i wish it still fit)

i think it shows who i was as a person, even if it just was my favourite colour at the time. 

whenever i go to someone's house, i truly never observe that much. my own room feels so much different. i notice everything.

theres a spot on my carpet with blood on it. from around a month ago. no one notices it but me. it makes me feel anxious. what if someone sees it and asks one day? 

the door to my old room has blood on it. im so clumsy. i never notice the blood on my fingers until its smeared across everything i own.

i never notice how much i care about my favourite colour until its the colour of everything i own. and then it changes and i cant help but hate purple. i cant help but hate green. i cant help but hate brown.

i remember talking with my dad when i was around eight maybe. i told him my favourite colour was green. he said "wasnt it brown a couple weeks ago?" as a joke. younger me thought that was stupid. brown had been my favourite colour forever! it was time it changed! or maybe months just feel like years when youre eight.

now it feels like everything i am changes overnight. thats probably just another thing common for my age. everything i feel is just common for my age. im meant to be okay with that.

one day i will look back at this blog and think of it as another corpse.