It Ends Here.
This is where it all comes down to; everything that is, will be, or has been. I stop here. It all stops here. I'm 19. I'm a female. I go to college. I'm not sure about much of anything. And that's okay with me.
Omg imagine if it was pouring with rain and just ugh so cosy and umf
Ask anyone who’s known me since I was 4.
I’ve fucking wanted this. I’ve always wanted a ROUND room. Made completely of windows.
Way to read my fucking mind, world.
My mind is running at wild, and I can’t fucking stand anything right now. I just want to be completely alone. But I want to cuddle. But I want to be with EVERYONE. My mind can’t decide a DAMN THING. I don’t understand anything that’s going on. I’m usually soooo good at understanding things, people, and emotions; but my own are so completely Jovian to me. I want to be able to just shout everything that I feel but I don’t even know what I’m feeling.
SO. MUCH. FUCKING. ANGST.
And now I’m afraid of everything. Of change. Of forgetting. Of leaving my room. Of being with people that used to mean the WORLD to me, and now they can’t even say TWO FUCKING SENTENCES to me. Yeah, thanks. That was just dandy. I should just stop giving a crap. But my mind won’t let me.
I want out. Of everything. Of my mind.
She had it right.
I need to read something by someone crazy.
Oh Plath, here I come.
