Kailyn Chadwick

It happens in dark hallways. It happens in the car and at the beach too. I felt it in Paris, in Greece and San Francisco with you and you and you. It’s a feeling, a sensation that used to have a name but these days I can’t blame it on a diagnosis, my parents or heartbreak; I’m just like this. A tourist in my own life who is perpetually searching for a tour guide. I merely feel like a visitor who is afraid of the water but not death, yet I am still amazed that we can see the m

If I follow the notion that we live in a simulation, which I often do these days then it would be obvious and expected that I am in control of my fate. Perhaps that’s contradictory because fate has no place in a simulation I suppose. Nonetheless it would be ideal that my actions would ultimately lead to favorable outcomes however I’m still trying to work that part out. What interests me isn’t whether we’re living in a simulation. It’s why I want it to be true. If nothing els

When we met I was dipped in tragedy and wrapped in remote solace. With a cherry on top of course. Now in my brief intermission of objective perspective I find I have the same reservations. Is this where I begin? Or should I start with when? I told my daddy I loved him and he told me to go to bed. I told my mother I wish I was dead, she held her head. When grandpa died, I pinched him so hard my fingers bled. I don’t remember much from my childhood and I’m not sure I want to,