i’ve noticed —
that whenever i’m reading a book, i almost always end up writing bits and pieces from it, like little quotes or things that just completely stick out to me and just feel as if i can relate. so, currently i’m reading ‘sex, drugs, & being an escort’ and i’m going to share my list.
and there’s not one thiong to be done about it. it’s the end of the story.
i know in my heart that i would be okay if i could just find home. that is what i’m missing.
it’s about four in the morning. i don’t know why, but it feels like broken dreams right now.
this is not how it is supposed to end. this part of my story was never supposed to take place.
prepare for the cruel and unmoved effects of both time and distance. they can ruin the most important things within a persons life.
but after so long, you just start to see where something is going and where it isn’t going.
i give myself very good advice… but i very seldom follow it…
a huge part of me has become roadkill somewhere between here and new mexico.
there are some things of an intensity that no words exist to describe them.
you should never dive into any pool without being fairly certain that it’s deep enough.
you realize you have just made yourself vulnerable. you find yourself feeling things for her that she could in theory completely crush, laugh, and walk away from. that is scary to everyone with a heart, no matter how damaged.
self-preservation is the practice of trusting nothing and no-one.
so that’s that for now.
