what i have to remind myself
They all have a story. Each and every one of them. Even if it’s ordinary, it’s a good one, because it’s special and real.
So I don’t want mine to be like this.
21 year old girl in NYC pretending to be a hipster, but is actually a constant slob with laziness abound. this is about the little and the not so little things in my life. this is about scruffy boys and pretty girls, cats, braids, and nerd humor. about good books and food and gingers and parks. but, really, you won't find much of them here except for my inner musings.
They all have a story. Each and every one of them. Even if it’s ordinary, it’s a good one, because it’s special and real.
So I don’t want mine to be like this.
So, another new year.
Remember how I said I’d participate in NaNoWriMo? Yeah. Didn’t happen.
I also told myself I’d be better. I don’t think that happened either.
Oh, I don’t know. I have a lot on my mind and a lot to do, but zero motivation to pay them any attention.
Just know that my life will be hell from now until April 1, especially from now until February 15. More like February 15.
i’m hoping that things will be okay. i need them to be okay.
I’m strangely saddened that one of my best friends from high school no longer calls me by her nickname for me. I guess this is what happens when you go to college.
Maybe I should take comfort in the fact that it took us four years to reach this point, instead of three, or two, or even one.
But, I don’t.
“You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”
My favorite. Then, now, forever.
i feel like i’m drowning. people around me are too loud, in every aspect, leaving me in the shadows, colors and voice subdued. i feel vulnerable and weak, and i can’t help but notice that i’m always the one that’s expected to be there, and then just gets left behind and forgotten about, only to be remembered moments later with a feeble apology. i can’t talk, but i have so many things to say, and even if they’re not all that interesting or fair, they’re still words and they deserve to be heard, but no one seems to hear them because they just get lost in the million other voices that are constantly circling in the air.
i want to scream, but i’m scared to find out if anyone will hear it.