I love the place I come from.
when it gets really quiet, when the silence gets too loud, I really start to miss everyone
charlie is my father.
my father is charlie.
I want to know what I want. I want to know what I want to do, who I want to be, how I want to get there. It’s so frustrating not knowing, not having any idea, and then sometimes thinking you know and then realizing you still don’t know. It’s so very infuriating constantly working towards something and then arriving at the bitter realization that you aren’t even sure if you want that anymore. It’s so tiring wanting what you can’t have or don’t have or don’t know how to get. Dreams used to be the escape, and now it seems we’re trying to escape them—or at least the thought of mastering them and transforming them to reality. It used to be so good, and now it’s just so hard, always wanting that escape, and dreams, and something else, and something else and more and more and what? and this and that and you and everything and nothing, because I really just don’t know.
I’m having one of those nights where you have second thoughts about everything and nothing feels right anymore.
I think most of the whitegirlproblems make us white girls seem like bratty bitches. And I think uggs are ugly/overpriced/not sensible footwear for puddles.
I don’t think anyone’s legs should be so skinny that they can be easily confused for arms.
I’d be a little more impressed if it was the TI-84+ Silver Edition with interchangeable cover plates.
But I guess it’s nerdy enough.