im just thinking about how it kinda sucks that ive never been kissed before
and how of all the chances i couldve had to live shit up, i passed them up for more chances to sleep the whole day away, sprawled out on the floor
my words get all jumbled up in my brain like one of those coin-operated gumball machines that caught my eye when i was really young
but even money wont inspire me to do shit with the ink on my tongue
like, my responsibilities are all knocking, and yelling, and they’re pounding now, trying to break the door down,
but im just here pretending that the sound of them doesnt make me want to drown myself in a crusty bathtub of bleach
its probably a waste of time trying to find a channel in my mind that isnt just static,
but the static isnt so bad i guess, it kind of reminds me of snow, only more..problematic.
i really really like listening to other people’s stories because it reminds me that ive done literally nothing ever in my life
i dont mean to be rude, i honestly really dont. your stories are fantastic but it just kinda twists the knife
im like a ghost but not a cool ghost. i wanna be a cool ghost but i feel like im transparent and nobody will ever see me
i dont even think i see myself. which is like, the lowest form of ghost. its the type of ghost that can never be
i want to be something but all i am is something like spinning treetops as you remember how she smelled like strawberry shampoo
and how she always wanted to be there for you, and how she was kinda hinting but it turned out to be wrong, like everything you do
everything is fine
everything is fine
everything is fine when nothing’s wrong
which is gonna take a long, long, long time
love is actually really terrifying when you think about it
i want the rain to carry me away into the clouds where i basically am most the time
im basically stuck in the pit of my own stomach
where the butterflies land on my nose and tell me to sing my own death song
i dont want to have to be doing something all the time
i want it to be okay to just. do nothing. and be okay with it
but im not okay with it
because i feel like im missing out on so goddamn much
i think that these past few days have been a lot like the feeling when u lay back on the grass on a summer day
but everything is wrong because the grass is itchy, there are bugs everywhere, and its 90 degrees out here
and you’re like “this is most definitely not what i ordered” and it kinda ruins your day
i can almost see my scars, but theyre pretty faded at this point which is great
that doesnt change the fact that the bones in my hands are still full of my own hate
they ache still
they wake at night sometimes
it’s still scary
is it acceptable to eat bullets for breakfast, or do i have to listen to my empty stomach for the third morning in a row?
i have nowhere to go and all this leaves me with is a day spent eating week-old food and recycling the musty air through my tired lungs that curls up under my bed during the cold, cold night
my tear ducts are about as dry as my palms stained with summer dust
all i can muster are shaky, cracked sobs that dont even mean anything to me
the sky kind of looked like cotton candy last night
sunsets always find a way to make me feel better
and i guess it is kind of cliche
but it’s true, they always make me swallow the words caked on the walls of my mouth
basically, its 12:04am now and i still feel like a ghost
like a ghost who cant even remember how they died
like a ghost who stays in the corner during parties
and doesn’t really dance or anything, cuz nobody can really see them, and they dressed up for nothing
it’s kinda sad
goodnight
ghosts are really cool except for when theyre not (via frostydoesart)
