(no subject)
I know I know I know I said that this would never be public again
but since when am I not a hypocrite?
Lets vote on my worst trait ever:
a.) I can never keep my mouth shut
b.) I over-analyze everything
c.) I am histrionic to the core
d.) I am a complicatedly fixed combination of all of the above
you know the answer
and its killing everything I've worked on for 6 months...
lets talk about choice a.)
all I want to do is tell you everything. about my day. about my childhood. about how I can read your eyes and silence like a book. about everything I've felt. about everything I've hurt. about everything that has just been neatly folded and tucked away in a "lets just forget about that" drawer. about how I never forget. about how it feels when your arm wraps around me circa four in the morning. about how I never thought this would turn into what its been, the good and the bad. about how I'm so scared. and about how I need to talk about everything all the time but I can never keep my mouth shut.
its a terrible deformity
lets think about choice b.)
its obsession. everything in my life is. whether its this gucci perfume or the answer on a spanish test or the words I lets spill out of my mouth or the things I do for you on secret sunday nights before school...I overanalyze it. everything has a scenario and a back story and pro and con. everything could go wrong and everything could go right. its a second guess. its an impulse. its a decision. I think and think and think and think. Shaken and stirred with the right amount of alcohol, this is a lovely/deathly combination with choice a.
its a demise
lets get down to choice c.)
its leads to mania. Napolean had it. and its not a far stretch to link me to such a default. Everyone loves me and everyone hates me. No one would talk about me but everyone does. Grandiose is my favorite word in the dictionary but I dont know why. The only logical explanation I can think of is that it contains "oi" which is so down to the structure. I think the worst. I cant ever say I'm sorry enough. but its all not what it seems. its all just about to kill you. theres only so much truth a person can let out. too much makes you cocky and unhealthy. not enough makes you scum. its better to just always believe that someone has the wool and is sneaking up on olive eyes. in my case, I tend to be scared that blue eyes are just raising it above me. but then again, what do maniacs know anyways?
I can take apart the world but can't ever put it back together
If you put that all together we should talk because only one person has ever gotten it.
I don't even get it
but I just want it to be kittens and gumdrops and rainbows
its hand holding down to grab my keys off of new smyrna beach
its making me feel like I'm in middle school again
and its making me crazy
I'm sorry I need the constant attention. and by constant, I do mean the first thing that pops into your head when your eyes stop the looking.
I just need a metaphoric hand holding
literal is just for back ups.
I want everything to work out
and I want to get through this
and I want to talk
but I got to stop
drop it
and breathe in deep, because oxygen in the hollowed out sections of my heart might be the only thing that can save me on nights like this.
or maybe just you
In other news, I miss my best friend
I miss her like Ive never missed anyone in my entire life
I now know what its like to lose a sibling and its bad news
fucking bad news
but I got things to do. sunsets in veins.
crossed fingers that I don't have to move to California in a year
because East Coast sunsets are what live inside of me
fuck everywhere else
xMadLovex
but since when am I not a hypocrite?
Lets vote on my worst trait ever:
a.) I can never keep my mouth shut
b.) I over-analyze everything
c.) I am histrionic to the core
d.) I am a complicatedly fixed combination of all of the above
you know the answer
and its killing everything I've worked on for 6 months...
lets talk about choice a.)
all I want to do is tell you everything. about my day. about my childhood. about how I can read your eyes and silence like a book. about everything I've felt. about everything I've hurt. about everything that has just been neatly folded and tucked away in a "lets just forget about that" drawer. about how I never forget. about how it feels when your arm wraps around me circa four in the morning. about how I never thought this would turn into what its been, the good and the bad. about how I'm so scared. and about how I need to talk about everything all the time but I can never keep my mouth shut.
its a terrible deformity
lets think about choice b.)
its obsession. everything in my life is. whether its this gucci perfume or the answer on a spanish test or the words I lets spill out of my mouth or the things I do for you on secret sunday nights before school...I overanalyze it. everything has a scenario and a back story and pro and con. everything could go wrong and everything could go right. its a second guess. its an impulse. its a decision. I think and think and think and think. Shaken and stirred with the right amount of alcohol, this is a lovely/deathly combination with choice a.
its a demise
lets get down to choice c.)
its leads to mania. Napolean had it. and its not a far stretch to link me to such a default. Everyone loves me and everyone hates me. No one would talk about me but everyone does. Grandiose is my favorite word in the dictionary but I dont know why. The only logical explanation I can think of is that it contains "oi" which is so down to the structure. I think the worst. I cant ever say I'm sorry enough. but its all not what it seems. its all just about to kill you. theres only so much truth a person can let out. too much makes you cocky and unhealthy. not enough makes you scum. its better to just always believe that someone has the wool and is sneaking up on olive eyes. in my case, I tend to be scared that blue eyes are just raising it above me. but then again, what do maniacs know anyways?
I can take apart the world but can't ever put it back together
If you put that all together we should talk because only one person has ever gotten it.
I don't even get it
but I just want it to be kittens and gumdrops and rainbows
its hand holding down to grab my keys off of new smyrna beach
its making me feel like I'm in middle school again
and its making me crazy
I'm sorry I need the constant attention. and by constant, I do mean the first thing that pops into your head when your eyes stop the looking.
I just need a metaphoric hand holding
literal is just for back ups.
I want everything to work out
and I want to get through this
and I want to talk
but I got to stop
drop it
and breathe in deep, because oxygen in the hollowed out sections of my heart might be the only thing that can save me on nights like this.
or maybe just you
In other news, I miss my best friend
I miss her like Ive never missed anyone in my entire life
I now know what its like to lose a sibling and its bad news
fucking bad news
but I got things to do. sunsets in veins.
crossed fingers that I don't have to move to California in a year
because East Coast sunsets are what live inside of me
fuck everywhere else
xMadLovex