I'm sitting here, looking at my collected weird ass art, trying to figure out what to say about The Longest Day. And really, while I've got all these little thoughts, there's no cohesive theme I can think of to put on paper (well, really into pixels) about the day ( Read more... )

It's fucking difficult not to comfort you, you know? I want to text, to make you feel better. After all this I want to make you feel better. How sick is that?

I was thinking about it. If I believe you, which I'm pretty sure I don't  completely, but if I do... If you didn't leave for the love of another, you still betrayed me. And for two years lied ( Read more... )

When they tell you to trust your heart or to believe in yourself? They're full of shit.

Here's the thing they don't say: living with your consequences is a massive bitch.

I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. I'm gonna continue down the path I laid out for myself before I got all emotionally compromised.

Bye, Papa. I wish I'd know you better. I ( Read more... )

So there's some themes that reoccur in my dreams. Not that many, really. There's:

The big library in the forest that no one goes to.
My old house has suburbs put in above it.
Trying to show someone the Palace of Fine Arts.
Running through the woods over snow, barefoot.
And now, lately: being the other woman for Orez.

But that's it. Most dreams fade in ( Read more... )

The PRIMARY problem with having imaginary friends ( Read more... )

Self pity is a truly awful color on me ( Read more... )

It's been awhile. Like. A WHILE.

Things aren't even vaguely good.
Father's still sick, and they're running out of rabbits to pull from hats.
College fund is dried up, have to get a scholarship or drop out senior year.
School is frustrating and harder then it's ever been, particularly with 3 "real" classes to distract from painting.
Working weekends ( Read more... )