There are friends who have never known me before eighth grade. I suppose that’s the best. I’m broken over how long it took for me to even look “normal.” All those self-esteem issues that are physical are mostly about my eye…. I freak out about vision a lot more than I show. I’m terrified of being blind, yet I know my right eye might as well be. I’m...
At least I have writing.
Of all the things I have time for (and all proper supplies…) I can write. I doubt anything I conjure is worthy of high praise or any real importance but it feels good once in a while when someone takes note or at least appreciates what I write. It’s not always perfect. I try not to brag. However, I really do love to write and I love the feeling of positive commentary. I love when an...
What if e.e. cummings just didn't know how to work...
je sus fu c k i ng chris t how do e s thi s t ype w r i t er w o r k -E.E. Cummings
I want to be your definition of “perfect.” Not society’s.
I desperately want to be the person you’d go to with all your problems.
May I kiss you then? On this miserable paper? I might as well open the window...– Franz Kafka (via mirificus)
sleepingtigers: I’ve tried to become someone else for a while, only to discover that he, too, was me. Stephen Dunn