stranger danger, stranger danger!

omg the weekend

finally. FINALLY. FINALLY.
the weekend is here.

sabaisabai was incredibly awesome,
if only i wasn’t so exhausted.

today, i have to finish my artpiece.
mmhmm, uhhuh, yeah.

delusions of grandeur

fresh fresh fresh

i can’t decide, smooth criminal or billie jean?

to feign ignorance: to pretend to not know something that is deeply troubling

delusional: to pretend to not know something that is deeply troubling, and to hide it from yourself

“The tough thing about following your heart is what people forget to mention; that sometimes your heart takes you places you shouldn’t be, places that are as scary as they are exciting and as dangerous as they are alluring. And sometimes your heart takes you to places that can never lead to a happy ending. And that’s not even the difficult part. The difficult part is when you follow your heart, you leave normal, and you go into the unknown. And once you do, you can never go back.”

keep it safe and sound..

count the headstones

_{“Sometimes you think you’re living out one story, but the truth turns out to be something else entirely.”}

at the time, i thought the story was about whether or not you had the strength, the courage, or whatever else you needed to be free.

if only i understood what the real story was.

honestly, i still don’t know.
but i would like to.

_{if you’re waiting for an invitation,
you’re gonna wait a long time
wait a long time,
wait a long time
if you’re looking for an invitation,
it’s never gonna come
it’s never gonna come,
you’re never gonna get one}

_{maybe you’ve been waiting too long}

remember that night at the park many months ago?
two lit cigarettes and too much conversation,
you answered my call when i needed somebody, and showed me your new body art
i sat on the swings while you watched me from the bench -
i told you all about it, and you listened, and then asked me,
‘are you happy?’
i didn’t answer you - so here it is

yes, i was happy.
but i’m not so sure anymore.

is it possible to love someone too much?

guilty.

i didn’t forget the first time you played canon in d for me -
you didn’t forget either, considering how much crap i get for my reaction that night.

you wouldn’t believe me if i told you now, because you have yet to after the numerous times i’ve told you - but i wasn’t laughing because it was you, or because it was me, or because it was us and a guitar, or because you were bad, or anything of that sort.

i was laughing because it seemed better than hiding my face in the blanket, trying to avoid letting you see how embarassed i was, not because it was you, or because it was me, or because it was us and a guitar, or because you were bad, or anything of the sort - i didn’t want you to see that my cheeks were flushed, and i didn’t want you to know that my heart was pounding, and i didn’t need to tell you that in my mind, what you did, was beautiful.

the first time you ever told me you thought i was beautiful? night we first met. i looked away. i hid. not because it was you, or because it was me, or because it was us, but because i couldn’t have let you seen that look on my face - that look that gave away that it was the first time anyone has ever told me that - and probably meant it without trying to fuck me.