I only post on here when I'm not OK
How does one disappear if one has no money and if the people one’s disappearing from know where “one” lives?
It’s fucking with my brain. And so is rice. How much longer can a person survive on fucking rice?
Why did I get into the questionable activity that is now making me want to disappear?
Because I needed money and I was scared. And I couldn’t think straight. And I wasn’t used to hard work, just leaning on daddy. And I was lazy.
I’ve got two hours to decide how to disappear.
Adrenaline shots for dinner. Nothing like fat Arabic guys staring at you as you dash under street lights in a park. I went running because I needed to stop crying. Needed to move so that I could feel that I exist. Feel good about myself and get the mind racing. I’ve hardly been moving - my body is trying to conserve energy.
I'M SICK OF IT
I’m also sick of being indoors.
“Muster up the rest of your courage and repeat after me: I will not be afraid of tomorrow.” -Unknown
“You wake up every morning to fight the same demons that left you so tired the night before, and that, my love, is bravery.” -Unknown
Come on, do whatever the fuck you want! What are they gonna do about it?!
I want to work with ideas. Art. Translation. Writing. Documentaries. The academia. Theater. Not taking a backseat.
I can’t believe that I’ve told you that I have got nothing to buy food with two days ago, and - nothing. I’ve fallen through your speech patterns I think.
When evening falls, I feel the need to repeat "everything's gonna be OK" to myself, like a mantra. Someone's gotta say it! Because it is. This is temporary.
It’s fucking with my brain. And so is rice. How much longer can a person survive on fucking rice?
Why did I get into the questionable activity that is now making me want to disappear?
Because I needed money and I was scared. And I couldn’t think straight. And I wasn’t used to hard work, just leaning on daddy. And I was lazy.
I’ve got two hours to decide how to disappear.
Adrenaline shots for dinner. Nothing like fat Arabic guys staring at you as you dash under street lights in a park. I went running because I needed to stop crying. Needed to move so that I could feel that I exist. Feel good about myself and get the mind racing. I’ve hardly been moving - my body is trying to conserve energy.
I'M SICK OF IT
I’m also sick of being indoors.
“Muster up the rest of your courage and repeat after me: I will not be afraid of tomorrow.” -Unknown
“You wake up every morning to fight the same demons that left you so tired the night before, and that, my love, is bravery.” -Unknown
Come on, do whatever the fuck you want! What are they gonna do about it?!
I want to work with ideas. Art. Translation. Writing. Documentaries. The academia. Theater. Not taking a backseat.
I can’t believe that I’ve told you that I have got nothing to buy food with two days ago, and - nothing. I’ve fallen through your speech patterns I think.
When evening falls, I feel the need to repeat "everything's gonna be OK" to myself, like a mantra. Someone's gotta say it! Because it is. This is temporary.