I checked out a library book that is currently over due now. I was going to recheck it out yesterday, but I was busy enjoying my first day of spring break. I think I will hold on to it until class starts again and just say I was out of town reading it or something and could not recheck it out.
Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop | Landon Pigg
I miss my father. I know, within a few seconds, a few minutes, a few hours, I’ll remember what he did and hate him again. However, the thing I’m certain of is that I hate this ambiguous feeling more than anything else.
I self-medicate quite a bit, actually. I take long walks to soothe the chaos of my mind and lighten the sinking of my heart; it also serves as exercise. I run faster and faster with raw emotion fueling to push myself, straining to see if my physical pain threshold is as expansive as my mental one. My continual dissatisfaction with my superficial and depth drives me to fight an already lost battle. Sometimes, draining myself is the only way I even sleep. It’s claimed to be a healthy lifestyle but honestly, I’m just mitigating a portion of my damage and distancing myself from it as much as possible. I physically exhaust myself for various reasons, but primarily because its pain feels so much better than emotional suffering.
I wonder if the cans of paint will be filled with something intangible, home in a bucket to transform this space into a life worth living because in it’s current state I am mirrored all over the bare walls, a shell, empty and cold needing to be covered in something real so I’ll wait until there are floors to curl up on, curtains on windows and places to sit in order to make decisions that I won’t live to regret, I’ll try it on for size and see how it feels to be so very small in a space that’s all my own behind locked doors and dark communal corridors with cars on cinder blocks with stolen wheels for the girl brazenly selling escape to neighbours on the ground floor, the door slid shut to her empty smile but I didn’t mind because we all have to find a way to get by but it felt like my eighteenth year lingering in the air flooding the creaking life and clinging to my clothes, armour to shield me from the outside world.
(via iv-xxi)
Mistletoe | Austin Mahone (Cover)
Ahh, Christmas I want you already!
(Source: ffouslecamp)
Just because you’re my elder, it does not mean I have to respect you. I’ll put up with you disrespecting me and how you treat me less than an equal. But listen, there is no way in hell I’ll respect you until you show that you deserve my respect. If there was any point where I stopped respecting you and stopped seeing you as a role model, you’re the one who messed up. So don’t get me wrong, I won’t disrespect you for any reason, nor would I raise my voice. Respect is something that you earn and it’s possible for you to lose it at any moment, so be careful of what you say or do.
An eerie silence seems to be floating throughout the city, normally in the afternoon the streets are filled with the smell of cigarettes and the screams of footsteps which seem to trample all over the sidewalk, but not this time. The time where there’s nothing more than the sound of the wind dancing through the air. The honking of cars and the screeches of the tires seem to have come to a halt. Waiting at a stoplight seems pointless, we can run along the street from one side to the next, there’s not a car in sight. Those who work the graveyard shift are packing up their gear and plan on heading home soon. Even the Grim Reaper needs to put down his scythe and rest a little.
Silence is golden, roaming around the city when the street lights begin to take their rest and call in for the day. Among the horizon you feel the sun aching to peak over to get his job over with. The time of day seems to be perfect, a blissful feeling overcomes myself and the other person with me. Although it’s blissful we have an adrenaline rush going through our veins, something that is so unordinary to our daily routine has come upon us. Just like in a scary movie, when it’s the quietest we would assume something bad is about to happen, it’s that feeling we have.
It’s a nostalgic feeling when you can lay in the middle of street without the fears of getting hit by a car or someone telling you to move. At this time the world really is your playground. Feel that freedom which is a natural right for every citizen, but this… this is a little different. You are free just like the wind that dances through the air, you don’t have a care in the world what happens right now because this is your moment for play.
I’ve always wondered how things would be if I didn’t lose my connection with some of my friends. It’s inevitable that we drift and ultimately becoming a part of one another’s past, but what if we didn’t? I’m not upset about what happened to us, but it’s just something that crosses my mind. Once you lose that connection and you try to hit them up again it’s rare to click the same way again. That feeling of excitement that you’re talking to one of your old friends becomes short-lived because those “we should hang out,” and “I miss you’s” are usually said because of that temporary moment of bliss the both of you feel. I know that they all cross my mind from time to time, but I always wonder if I cross theirs.
