I don't write in this journal nearly enough as I write in on the inside of my forehead.

To be a true writer, does everything need to be on paper?

What do you do when the idea is there sitting at the tip of your fingers and you can't touch it, but you know it yours?

I can't seem to reach anything lately.

I loved it. Every second of it. And it loved me back.

Still in the swing of things. Always the brink of things. A taking to drink the things.

I make entries that I never journal.

I write stories with my tears.

I mend dreams with fears.

All in the same I guess.

1 month later and nothing has changed

The way things were, the way they used to be....

is neither here nor later.

It's just.

School is so hard.

The end.

The past few weeks have been undeniably crazy. James ODed on black tar last Tuesday. Everyone is just finally relieved that he decided to go to rehabilitation. It's a Meth clinic and I'm not really sure how that pertains to a heroin addiction, but quite frankly I don't really care as long as he gets better ( Read more... )

I love thanksgiving with good friends and family and turkey. I should update more. I will try alot harder ( Read more... )