stockholm syndrome

"life is a series of calluses, this is just another layer
so build them up, tough it out, yeah, that’s your skin
don’t let anyone under there"


kept happy(?) and occupied by a loveless half-relationship based previously on convenience and now on strictly controlled, subterfuged longing. i sabotage my potential, now, and would enjoy being a robot.

this time away lets me build up my wall, lets me spread my mortar, lets the roots of this plant that's been growing too large for too long dig deeper. further than my furtive investigations into a different path can go, even from so far away. roots that embrace and tear.

statistically, the mean justifies the median and mode, the scatter plot with a correlation of exactly 0. a squiggly line with an arrow on the end, because this graph goes on and on and on. and it will never draw conclusive results. as i've been told.