Sometimes you have to kind of die inside in order to rise from your own ashes and believe in yourself and love yourself to become a new person.
I’m not drunk I’m chillin
when you go to pet a dog and it growls at you
I’m too horny for the amount of sex I’m not having.
Pulling an all nighter not to spend all that time researching and writing and editing
But to stare at all my articles and Word to type fragments every few minutes but mostly delete it anyways
And hope I somehow end up with four pages soon
how else would i drink water?? fuckin idiot
My problem is that I fall in love with words, rather than actions. I fall in love with ideas and thoughts, instead of reality. And it will be the death of me.