this is not a test

into your gravity

She went on, growing angrier than he had ever seen her. “You’re wasting your life away. When was the last time you laughed, Tom? And I don’t mean sniggering at someone because you got the best of them, I mean actually laughed? When was the last time you enjoyed the winter’s air without complaining about how cold you were? You’re living in a gigantic, ridiculous, self-created paradox. You are smarter than anyone, and you know so little. You will add years to your life, but not life to your years. You make me so angry, Tom. Don’t you realize, that – that life isn’t measured by the breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away?” She said all this very fast, and when she finished, she was breathing heavily and her eyes were shining a little too much. And with that, she turned away from him and went quietly inside, leaving him very cold and very much alone.

chapter 11.

stuck in a rut

i dont think i can be friends with you.
i dont think i can be friends with you and want something more.
i dont want to be friends.
i dont want to be just friends.

but that’s what we’re hurtling towards, even as we manage to hold off the conversation for another day. everytime that i have you, breathing in the strong scent of you.. i think, another disaster avoided. *whew!* honestly though, love is the slowest form of torture. every time that we save this conversation for another day, that we hide our issues under the rug- unable to deal with it right now, not wanting to see. it aches.

i can’t bear to lose you, not when its taken me so long to find you.
i know we’re not going to last.
every day i’m pleasantly surprised we’ve come so far along.

another one of life’s little surprises.

i hope its hormones

everything pisses me off lately. i keep thinking morbid thoughts and wanting to tear into people. the best friend is apparently used to my “moods,” and lets me get away with it.. which is bad. he gets beaten up on a lot. i got into a screaming spat with my parents about the most stupid tihng. rather, i screamed and they wondered why i was so unreasonable, ending with me stomping off to my room, slamming the door shut and blasting alternatively happy spanish music and torrid rock/metal riffs. i’ve calmed down a bit but switching back to things that annoy me, my mind does.

this can’t be healthy.

et tu, brutus?

some people should never sing in public, especially if they’ve had a few drinks. yes, you sound beautiful in your shower. (&quite honestly, who doesn’t? the shower tiles have amazing acoustics)

i, on the other hand, just shouldn’t sing. at all.

not because i can’t, as being in the choir will let you know. 2 and a half years of sharpening my voice, of honing it.. just so i can falsetto and butcher your favorite song.

comfort

i nabbed a longsleeve of his on sunday as i was making the long commute back to my home. it’s been serving as my pj top every night, as i float away to lalaland bathed in his scent.

the skinny

i guess it’s flattering that he likes me, that he’s willing to stay in this country for me- a girl he’s flat out admitted he has no chance with. that he will travel 4 hours out of his way, to hang out with me in a book store, and bring me an umbrella, get soaked for and walk me to my door. just so i can make fun of him.

2:18

our short but good conversation in the morning which, when i repeat or try to tell others- sounds really silly and quite inane.

the silly man was so adamant that i cover my bottom, like i go about town in solely my bra

my father’s daughter

headstrong
proud
fiercely loyal
survivor
resourceful
independent
friendly
pain in the ass
never knows when to quit
creative
confident
self-serving
intuitive

hardworking
protective of thy self and others
loving
silly

work in progress