wait i dont know why i Made this ‎ ‎ † ‎ ‎

i think deep down, what i truly want is a friendgroup that feels aligned with me at the core. not just people i talk to, not just people i share a few interests with, but people who instinctively understand the kind of life i ache for. the sort of people who could spend an entire day together without needing phones in their hands every five minutes. where the experience itself is enough. i crave something slow and tangible and alive. i want friendships built around movement, exploration, and genuine presence. wandering through the woods with no destination. sitting by a lake until the sun goes down. driving to the sea just because we felt like it. climbing mountains, getting dirty, laughing too loud in public, finding hidden places nobody else cares about.

i want the kind of friendships where we spend mornings at farmers markets and afternoons drifting through thrift stores and tiny antique shops, where even mundane things become memorable because of who you’re with. i want to travel the world with people who see beauty the same way i do. people who stop for strange roadside attractions, old churches, foggy coastlines, half-abandoned towns, handmade trinkets, and quiet moments. i want a collective connection, something almost familial, where everyone naturally folds into one another’s company and it feels effortless to exist together.

the closest thing i can compare it to is the kind of bond the pogues have in outer banks, or the friendgroups you see in coming-of-age films where everyone comes from completely different backgrounds yet somehow fits together perfectly. not because they’re all the same, but because they genuinely enjoy one another. no underlying competition, no talking badly about each other the second someone leaves the room, no constant irony or emotional distance. just people who are fully present with one another. people who want to be there. people who choose each other over and over again.

and i want to document all of it. not in the shallow way people post everything online now, but in a deeply sentimental way. i want camcorder footage of my friends laughing in the backseat while the windows are down. blurry photographs taken at dusk. recordings of stupid conversations, the sound of waves hitting the shore, boots crunching through snow, someone yelling my name from far away in the woods. i want physical proof that these moments existed. i want photo albums stuffed with polaroids, videos that feel warm and grainy years later, memories preserved so carefully that even revisiting them hurts a little. i want our lives to feel cinematic without trying to be.

i think part of why i romanticize content creators so heavily is because they somehow always seem to know exactly when to pull out a camera. they capture the in-between moments perfectly; someone smiling absentmindedly out a car window, friends sprinting across a parking lot at night, half-finished conversations over cheap food, ocean water reflecting city lights. they make ordinary life feel beautiful and cinematic, like every memory is worth preserving. and i envy that deeply. not even because of the audience or attention, but because they seem to have created lives so full of presence and connection that there’s always something worth recording. sometimes i wonder if i romanticize them because they’ve managed to build the exact kind of existence i crave but can’t fully grasp myself.

but the painful part is that my friendships exist in fragments. all of my friends come in small, separate pieces. they each fulfill different parts of me, but they’re all so drastically different from one another that i can’t imagine them coexisting outside of the specific corners of my life they already occupy. it feels like i’m constantly moving between worlds that could never touch. and because of that, the larger thing i long for — that unified, deeply connected group i romanticize in my head — feels almost impossible to reach. like i can picture it so vividly that it hurts, but i don’t know how to make it real.