i'm not used to this,and that in itself is sad.

it's sad how excited i get over something that probably doesn't even matter in the least. i read far too much into words. i should probably wait for some actions. but those are automatically going to be few and far between seeing as how this avid speaker lives across the goddamn country. i feel like a wide-eyed child everytime i imagine that this ( Read more... )

i don't write, because i don't want to remember. this is too much. i'm trying, but it's hard. there's so much i should be doing, could be doing..and yet, i just let it all slip by seemingly unnoticed. oh, but i notice. i notice everything. it's all so much fun, oh it's all just youth and goodtimes. but no. it's life, and the few opportunities i had ( Read more... )

wine, whiskey, then wine again...

apparently that's the recipe to wake up in your ex's bed, extremely confused.

yet somehow happy?

...aaaaand there he goes.

fuck you, new york.
i never liked you anyway.

my,what a poetic fifth.

unhappy thought; there will not be a seventh. a sixth, hopefully. but definitely not a seventh.

very domestic fourth.

thought; the clock is ticking.
feeling; rushed yet insightful.
action; ignorance is bliss.

but a horrendous horrible hurtful third...

and an even better twice.

why are my days either insanely boring, or way too crazy? is it so hard to find a middle ground?

apparently so.

also, i can't believe you're back in town. even if it's only for a couple more weeks. i've only seen you once and i'm already "HA HA HAHAHA"-ing dandy warhol style just like i used to.

guess it was a good once.