the half-eaten apple on the counter, browning already where they took a bite and abandoned it. feels like a metaphor doesn't it? for something. the way i let the laundry pile up, the dishes stack, the painting i started gathering dust, the fern already starting to crisp at the edges even though i JUST bought it, all the half-finished things, they haunt me more than the things i never even started because at least those were never supposed to be something, the potential never betrayed by reality, you know?