December 2010
8 posts
all i ever want to do in life is read, write, and explore. i want to reach into the depths of the universe and sweep it before me on the floor. i want to sift through mistakes and triumphs until they blur together in a kaleidoscope of choices, until the darks and lights become the same things, so that there is no more fear of fucking up, no more trepidation or anxiety; so that every choice is just...
AND ANOTHER THING
i’m so fucking sick of people complaining about their fucking parents. bitch, we know you’re hella rich and thus your parents shower you with material items to make up for the fact they’re never in your life, because they’re always working to make that money. i shouldn’t be one to talk because i don’t know your entire life, and it probably sucks, just like...
why am i so obsessed with pictures? i talk so much shit about everyone being so god damn unnecessarily infatuated with appearances, but i’m a huge hypocrite. i can’t help but scrutinize every physical aspect of myself, take to heart every criticism of myself, cringe at every jab i’ve ever heard from anyone from the boys on the blacktop to the girls in the hallways.
maybe...
1 tag
i remember when,
we stopped at quick stop to get gas, and i asked you for the money so i could go up the counter and pay, but you said it was fine, and that you would do it. so i started to get out of the car to fill up the tank instead, and you smiled at me and said it was cold outside so i should keep warm, and that you’d just take care of it. so i sat in the passenger seat and found Cats Cradle by Kurt...
