Solitude.
Don't get me wrong, it's nice and peaceful sometimes. Times when I enjoy being alone as much, or more, than I enjoy being around people.

Plus, I'm not too nice to people these days.
I don't know what's happened.
It's not like I don't know I hurt people's feelings.
But I take them into consideration afterwards.
But by then, they've moved on, and I'm left to think that I can't take that second back. I can't take those words back.

I've become bitter, mostly.
though, I still enjoy myself quite a lot.
I don't blame anyone but myself.


All I want is to get lost in a book.
In some one else's life.
Problems
social barriers
love life
and internal conflicts.

It's odd to think,

that I'll be singing a love song I wrote about you, in front of you.
And I doubt that you notice that I stare.
Eye contact is my enemy.
Because when I'm looking at you, not only do I feel asphyxiated,
but I feel like your gaze is unlocking me, and I feel loose.
I feel free.
I feel bare,
your hands are in your own pockets,
keeping your arms busy,
and you're not there to blanket me.

I MISS ELISABETH.
I wonder if she knows what a sunspot is..
I'm pretty sure she does, but she lets me call her that anyway :)

I find an intensely focused brain incredibly attractive.
The thought of someone explaining things like computer programming, or quadratic equations during sex is just..gorgeous.

The first time I wrote that sentence,
instead of 'sex' I wrote 'intercourse'
How lame is that?
Sex is such a great word.

random musings

“Insecurities are about as useful as trying to put the pin back in the grenade.”

The show will be super..? I have no idea what my feelings on the show are. Maybe I should just take away the '..?' and just put an '!'

The show will be super!

That feels good.


So. I do this thing, where whenever I'm into someone, I tell whoever I can. And I haven't told anyone anything as of recently. It's refreshing.
It's not that I like bottling things up, or hiding things.
But I'm just having an ickle laugh to myself over my own teenage dramas.

She sits,
not alone in her thoughts,
but accompanied by another of herself.
Another of one that she is, and at times,
is not.