rubygardenia

i didn't used to be so much of a deleter. truthfully, i can't remember, but i don't think i erased my creative self the way i do now.

i go on delete binges. it sounds trivial, maybe. i delete things i write, things of promising but maybe dubious value. writing that exposes my talent vulnerabilities. i also delete out of rebellion. a perverse, back-handed resistance to how much i care what people think. mostly though, it's self-injury. i don't cut my skin or starve myself or throw myself headlong into abusive relationships. i just throw things away. my words, my memories, my online existence.

i like the idea of taking myself away, of disappearing. it feels good to delete when i'm hating myself. just writing this feels self-induglent and dramatic.

oof. i'm tired.