=]

Wowwww I haven't posted on here in so long, I even forgot my password.

that pout.

The only thing that makes me sick is driving by myself over the bridge and crosstown at night with some shitty radio station on. I don't necessarily hate bridges, or crosstown, or the radio, or even driving. It's just where I was going that made me sick. Where I HAD been going, not where I'm going now. But it's a vicious cycle. I will end up there at some point. So, obviously, it made me think of where my destination has been a billion times.
There is no point in trying to fight it or forget it. I'm probably a shitty person, but so are you. It's always heart over mind. You would probably look out for yourself, for the moment, if you felt like your blood was swollen in your veins and your heart sunk into your stomach.
When I think about it sometimes, I don't care. Maybe karma is biting me in the ass. It must be.
I can just move.

stormy weatha.

flea. she's so spoiled.


I cannot wait to get better. I cannot wait to get a job.

"i miss seeing you around."
i miss driving there at 2 in the morning, gathering up all my nerve to get out of my car, checking my makeup a thousand times, the way you talk, your hands around my waist, tracing the lines, the way your hair felt, your laugh, when you tickled me (and I HATE being tickled by anyone else).
Most of all, I just miss your presence.
I don't know where you're going, or where you've been, or how you've been. Well, I feel really alone.
I don't want to burn bridges.
I just wish we could go out to eat sometime, or we could talk one night.
Just friends, at least.

There is no reason why I shouldn't be happy. I've come a long way, even if it is just these past few weeks. And I intend to keep progressing. I will never meet someone who makes me feel the same way though.

'stuck'

is not a word I want to use anymore. I might as well make the best of living in this town. It's not too bad. I also don't want a new relationship.
But in less than a week I will be able to drink wine on my own couch, get in the hot tub whenever I want, take my dog for walks, for real this time.
I've got a few amazing friends and I'm grateful that they've been there for me through the really shitty times. Maddie McElveen and Brandon McCracken. I really couldn't be any more lucky, to have two strong, selfless people in my life.

SO, after four hours of sitting in a chair, (it's still a work in progress. gotta get shading.) -







I know I look really enthused. I had just woken up/hangover.
Glenn Collins, Broken Lantern Tattoo.

sort of.

I was reading 'Killing Yourself to Live' today and fell asleep. Not that Chuck Klosterman's books are boring, I was just sleepy. He's actually a genius without trying to be. I had the weirdest dreams, about everything I've ever subconsciously wanted, hated, and miss all at once in a period of about 5 hours until I woke up just in time for dinner. It was raining and I was in a car most of the time, talking and frowning, and texting.
Anyways, cleaning out my room is a long process and really bittersweet. Old camp letters, birthday cards from when I was turning 5, stupid things I saved that remind me of people I care(d) about. Most of it is in a pile outside my door or in drawers/the trashcan now. I feel like I'm on my deathbed, because that's what people make me feel like. "We have to hang out one last time before you go." But it's a good thing. Rebirth. I cleaned off all the writing on my mirrors and walls. 2 more weeks.

"We're all tourists, sort of. Life is tourism, sort of. As far as I'm concerned, the dinosaurs still hold the lease on this godforsaken rock."

-Chuck Klosterman.

gota take what i make and turn it into somethin'.

"The more people you know, the more problems you have."
The rumors I hear about me make me laugh, but they're so believable. I don't understand how people get so much pleasure in making up things about me. The only part about them that would bother me is losing people i care about. I think that I once deserved to be ridiculed and have death glares thrown in my direction, but I think that I deserve more than that now.
No place feels like home.
The other afternoon I was coming back from West Ashley, driving over the bridge, and my heart felt like it was about to burst I was so happy. The sun was setting, and all the windows were down. Everything was so much brighter, and I was singing without realizing it. That was short lived.
Honestly the only places that have ever felt like home were woods (they probably only felt like home because I had been climbing trees and digging since I could remember) and your arms (that sounds cliche, but I can't explain how alive I felt.)
I'm not necessarily running, just trying something new. I won't sit at home all day or run around aimlessly. It's a chance for me to focus.
I don't care who disagrees or doesn't believe in me. I'm doing this for myself. I don't need approval.
I won't be in Africa. A straight 99 mile road and you're there.

4.14.

Every gulp was like an hourglass overturned, time ticking away. Not sip, but gulp, seeing as the lump in my throat was growing and felt more and more painful every second. My septum was stinging and my eyes felt heavy, sinking into my skull. The only thing I could hear was the sound of the liquid going down my throat. When I tried to talk, my eyes wouldn't stay in one place; trying to memorize every inch of the room. Like I would forget anyway. People try to give me advice, but I'm not sure they understand when it comes down to it. If anyone was watching, I'm sure they were laughing at how awkward I looked, walking with my eyes glued ahead in the dark, picking up my feet in short strides.

Hard to believe. I've been wondering where to go ever since I heard you shut the door. When you woke up the next morning I think you decided to stop loving me.