felgernonn

[felgernonn]

[felgernonn]

is this a life? i don’t know. i make another cup of coffee. stare at a tree from my balcony. write in my journal. take a hot shower. i call my sister and say nothing of value. she listens anyway. i make another coffee. read a book that gives me bad dreams. pick up my pen to write and put it back down. another flip of the calendar i carry in the center of my chest. i am learning to let my heart open up again

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forgot that this is what it’s all about (cooking food and having it cost money and take time and create dishes all to taste really bad)

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Sorry I didn't respond to your text right away- when the constant demand of staying connected gets too much for me I throw my phone into the woods. That weird text you got earlier was from a possum. Sorry if she was rude.

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''what if my writing isn't good eno--'' what if it's a reflection of your soul. what if it has a place in this world. what if you write it anyway

[felgernonn]

tumblr is for putting your stuff somewhere that's not secret but also not for anyone particular to see so it's true neutral in a really nice way

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death scares me so bad, what do you mean one day I won’t exist?? what about my daily walks and all the music I listen to..

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i'm excited to live the rest of my life like it belongs to me

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I think I’m having the worst day I’ve had in a long time

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All you do is whine

untrue i also suffer, rot, wail, wallow, haunt, mourn and rage

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Any idiot can like something thats good. It takes a real genius to like things that suck ass

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actually, growing up is feeling like i turned sixteen two days ago. i’ve been eighteen for years. fifteen year olds seem so young. wasn’t i fifteen just a few weeks ago? all my friends and i are still twelve. i’m closer to thirty then to being a baby. i never got to be a kid. i never grew past eight. i can’t talk to my mom. i want to sit in her lap forever. the week is going by so slow. an entire year has passed. i want to decide everything for myself. i need someone to tell me exactly what to do.

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Louise Glück, from “Solstice”, Poems 1962-2012

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love is the most important thing ever

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