Emma's Manifesto

We know we’re going to be up late. What does it feel like to be me at this moment? I’m not sure. It feels restless and complicated at times it needn’t be.

My head is always pounding at the same rate as my heart.

I think back to the time we were in the darkroom together and you told me I’ve “felt a lot of feelings before.” I say that a lot to myself now, now that we’ve lost all reason to see each other since you left for the desert.

The words you said to me were all wrong. At least when I was wrong I got my point across.

I saw the sun. It was blinding and when I closed my eyes it was all red until the buildings passed and it was black. And then red. And black all so fast and over again. Everything moving so fast and I’m along with it all.

I exit myself. The streets are all lined up for me to walk down. My shoes have holes in the bottom but they are mine. I can feel the street moving below m with each step as the gravel enters me and I know I’m getting further and further away.

My feet are my home and they can take me anywhere I want. They’ll take me further than you ever could.

My clothes may not be battered by this city just yet but they form around the many moments of my own singular existence.

What’s even important to me anymore? My pictures. Every moment is a moment, you just have to know how to save it for yourself. Walking around aimlessly is just as important as anything else. Knowing how to make the simplest things mean something to me has kept me going thus far. I’m not sure how you feel but I know how I do.

As comforting as thinking about the past can be, I must begin to focus on the tangible. Must focus on what I can hold and feel, so I can forget about the many times I’ve said to myself, “Come back to me”