Things do feel like a daydream sometimes.
Here I am in this town on my own paying for everything and living the dream and going to school. University finally. My own private place, apartment. A single. It's different from how I imagined 6 months ago, 12 months ago, 2 years ago. But it's good. And I am so content.
It didn't hit me like it should've. It was alright. I'm by my friends now, you know. And some nights I fall asleep thinking of a girl on my arm or in my embrace, but most nights I forget about that. Most nights it doesn't bother me, because it isn't really a bother.
The mask I polish in the evening, by the morning looks like shit.
I have been keeping an almost obsessive/constant log for many many months. There's a thing that happens with me where I forget things and feelings. So I decided to keep track for my future self to learn and understand what goes on when I lose myself. And organize daily things like pictures of food I ate or the condition of my living situation. And writing. God, writing. I have been writing every day almost for....7? 8 months I think.
I said, "Watch me rise
yo, world, I’m comin for you"
It feels like a memory and summer isn't even gone yet. I guess I wish this summer wouldn't end. I feel like the most content human being in the world these past couple weeks. But I know soon it will be hell. Maybe. I'll be makin' my dream come true and it'll suck at the same time. Always the irony with me. Always.
Everything is going to change soon. Or it's not. And then I'll know what my life will be like the next year or so.
Vanilla chamomile tea.
Nostalgia at its finest. Winter. But not cold, warmth. I feel blankets. Your body warmth. Soft shirts. Softer lips. Warm kisses. Heater hands. Darkness, because the clouds omit the sun, but my curtains omitted the light. Hot chocolate. Good movies. The way my room smelled when I had that huge heater running all day. The weight of the room, because it made my room 80 degrees and the air was heavy. Sleepy eyes.
Oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile
I found it hard, it was hard to find
Oh well, whatever, nevermind
Come on, skinny love.
I guess I feel a little strange. Still better, though. I haven't cried in awhile except I just read my unwritten letter to you on here and it made me cry. You opened up to me tonight a little. I guess it was ranting. About your friends and their problems and it's been troubling you and you've been writing again. That makes me happy. It was nice to catch up a little.
An unsent letter to her. I haven't done this in awhile.
I'm trying to keep busy and just do what I'm doing. Despite this I still think about us a lot. I guess I'm not always sad but I still find myself thinking about things. I don't do a whole bunch of theorizing about how things would be now, but sometimes I do. Like if we got back together now or if it didn't happen. Like short cut scenes in my head.
but the feeling never did
It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live
Cause what is simple in the moonlight, by the morning never is
What's so simple in the moonlight, now is so complicated
What's so simple in the moonlight, so simple in the moonlight
And I read the entries I have created since the beginning of this and I can see a progression into the appearance of contentedness and I know there is something still waiting to settle in the bottom.
accidentally start puking.
go to the gym.
that sang to me. You're the other half. Like a missing piece.
This song sounds like fleet foxes. Things are great. I'm going to the gym a lot and I bought a tv the other day for my room. Workin' a lot. Friends are back for the summer from college. I'm headin up this fall. Not sure how I feel. Excited, yet not. Everything needs to work out, monetarily first before I can allow myself to be excited in case things don't work out. Sometimes things just don't work out for me.
I don't understand that sound no more
Seems artificial, like a T.V. set
Life is easier when you realize no one is thinking about you.
When you are you and you are alone.
When you stop caring about everyone else.
It is worth it.
Just remember it's your call.
When I listen to songs for the first time I have to read the lyrics.
And I think, this must be about me.
And something contradicts me and I feel a little embarrassed and think, how could this be about me?
Nothing is about me.
And I remember.
And then I am humbled.
Dear future lover:
I have fallen once and I know now what I need. I have always known what I could give, though. I give everything. All of my emotions and passion in one direction. But I want to affect you like no one else has. I want to make you swoon when I smile at you. I want you to see your own reflection in my irises because in my head you're all I see. I am strong and supportive, but girls will always be my weakness. A subtle smile or a light brush of your hand could bend my tough exterior, for in the inside I am easily swayed. I am bendable.