I spent the whole day in bed watching movies and studying. Now my back hurts so much I think it's from the bed. I feel like I’ve forgotten how to sit up and do things.
Scribe your soul out
studying
I've been trying to figure out a book our professor suggested, which seemed interesting at first. Now
all I want to do is cry.
all I want to do is cry.
I love salads
Betammmmmmmmmm.
Specially the ones I make and noodle places make.
Betammmmmmmmmm.
Specially the ones I make and noodle places make.
❤5
I was home alone for three days. All I ate were salads, sliced bread, and eggs. I can't wait for unsupervised me.
Scribe your soul out
“boa constrictor digesting an elephant”
I'm afraid I might answer this during my driver's license test.
You never feel scared because, no matter how hard you try to be quiet, it always finds a way to scream in your ears. You become so familiar with it that you stop caring about the noise it creates in your life. Being careful never worked. So, you start to disrespect life itself, finding out that respect is never truly quiet. Even if it appears silent, it will never stop echoing.
If our emotions were jars, mine would be a thin glass one so thin it feels like it could evaporate at the slightest touch. It doesn’t take much a bit of warmth a ray of light, and suddenly it’s gone again. The glass isn’t just thin it’s cracked too. Everything I try to store inside leaks out. I don’t know how to hold anything in it all spills out all at once.
From a distance maybe you’d see the jar wrapped in plasters. I’d try to paint over it, decorate the outside to make it seem normal maybe even beautiful. I’d work hard to keep it looking clean, to hide the drips and fractures. It would shimmer just enough to pass. Presentable. Polished. Like something whole.
But despite how fragile it is there’s a strange weight to it. It can’t be lifted. I can’t move it can’t carry it. I’m stuck with it, watching it leak, doing everything I can to patch it up without shattering the whole thing.
And that leaves me wondering
How can something so empty still feel so heavy?
#Saturdayshouldbeabused
From a distance maybe you’d see the jar wrapped in plasters. I’d try to paint over it, decorate the outside to make it seem normal maybe even beautiful. I’d work hard to keep it looking clean, to hide the drips and fractures. It would shimmer just enough to pass. Presentable. Polished. Like something whole.
But despite how fragile it is there’s a strange weight to it. It can’t be lifted. I can’t move it can’t carry it. I’m stuck with it, watching it leak, doing everything I can to patch it up without shattering the whole thing.
And that leaves me wondering
How can something so empty still feel so heavy?
#Saturdayshouldbeabused
❤1👍1
I tried not to abuse it with the same screams, but it had to come out somehow.
I want to run. I want to be fast and test my lungs again. I want to feel how I used to feel after a good run.