I pulled a notebook from my shelf in order to do some journaling that my therapist recommended and I found this random note from like two years ago. I feel like it needed to see the light before I start journaling.

My mailbox is empty, save for the same fucking flyer that’s been in it since I moved in. Mail is a thing of the past and no one will write me.

Sometimes I think I should stop saying “fuck” but I can’t bring myself to.