Fuck waiting for someone or something.
Go out and do what you want.
1,000,000 miles away from here.
The past view days, I’ve climbed rocks, visited train stations, drove all the way to the most eastern parts of Massachusetts, roamed a soccer field of fireflies, walked along boardwalks over marshes, and picked seashells on the coast of Newport.
& I still don’t know how to fill this emptiness inside of me.
Today I thought about buying a conversion van and travelling Mass to California, sleeping in my van, throwing afterparties in my van, and fucking anyone up with an empty - half full bottle of vodka who spills on my manga collection.
Let’s dance, smoke, and drink & then cuddle, eat, and watch sci-fi films.
This one time I went to Europe, I thought the sky was beautiful, reminiscent of our emotions. I felt the sea, beating at our insatiable hearts, ready for anything. The warm moon, caressing every thought we had with dreamer-like aspiration as the rainclouds poured happiness all over us in great clouds over the hills.
I’ll never forget how happy I was.
I hate when you’ve gotten used to the smell of a place and can’t recognize it as distinctly. Is there a word for this?