(no subject)
my life is basically a giant writers block.
and everyone else is living on their rainbow clouds in a storybook fairytale.
dreaming takes you absolutely nowhere.
but at the same time, what are we without our dreams? we're 2-dimensional puppets.
it's a disheartening notion to come to when you realize that you can't change the world- that you might not be what you want to be and anytime prior to this when you thought you were going somewhere, you were a fool.
i guess dreams are an okay foundation to have, but without action, those dreams are never put into motion and you stay put.
fucking valentines day. dramatica central, apologies.