(via stickfigureillustration)
So angry that I want to cry, but so sad that I want to punch myself in the face.
Well played, uterus.
Passed my roller derby assessment.
Lame, whatever, don’t care what you think, I’m awesome.
But the blackness in your heart won’t last forever. I know it’s tearing you apart, but it’s a storm you can weather.
Last week I had my entire life torn out from underneath me. Not just one aspect, everything. I know it’s so overused, but honestly, whatever could go wrong, did. I questioned myself. I questioned those that I love. I questioned my home, my heart, my bed, my brain, my books, my everything. I threw a lot of things out. I fell apart. I thought I would never experience the things I want to, the things I need to, the things I must. I fell apart at twenty years old and although I knew I would survive, I couldn’t see the day that I would be okay, I couldn’t reach it, and that frightened me.
And then I was surprised by someone with whom I share an odd friendship. She gave me a belated birthday gift that she had made herself, that showed me how well she knows me and how closely she has paid attention over the last few years.
And I cried. I cried so hard. And not because I was sad, or because I was happy, or because I didn’t know how I felt. I cried because something so small meant so much in so little time. I cried because I could. Finally, I could. Finally I could mourn what I was losing, and what I had already lost.
It’s rare to have something placed in your hands and to know, in that moment, that is one object that will remain in your life, forever.
Sunday.
“Don’t sit so close to the flash, you’ll lose your face.”
Friday livin’
No bright lights, no big city… Went to my head. So I won’t stick around in this town, no. I’m getting out instead. Cause I can’t find a thing here to get it done, to race my heart and ring my ears, so I won’t stick around in this town. And that’s true.
Cause I won’t, and I can’t, and I don’t understand. You become what you hate, or you hate what you become.
So I make my way through the quagmire of boomers glorifying their youth, and all the peacocks in this city.. So if I may be excused? Well I won’t be around for the good times, won’t be around for the bad, and I won’t stick around in this town, no. I’m getting out instead.
I won’t, and I can’t, and I’ll leave because I can, and I won’t be back again.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
Today was pretty productive.
Unimportant update about my life.
I’m stuck. I’m too comfortable. But I’m itching, too.
Never an opportunity missed to take a photo of myself.
Magic space pants!
TOM GABEL WHAT
WHEN
HOW
~~Laura~
It must be a comment on how tasty your lunch is when you start eating the paper and not even realise.
Fuck you, veggie pasty. SIX DOLLARS I’LL NEVER SEE AGAIN
