I write to mask my insanity.

not handing the whole my chemical romance thing well at all

everything has lost its meaning

nothing makes sense

everything is just so fucking stupid and pointless

fuck

“Just in case you wander into a voting booth one day, there are some things you should know:

One of them is there’s absolutely no evidence to support the statement that we’re the greatest country in the world. We’re 7th in literacy, 27th in math, 22nd in science, 49th in life expectancy, 178th in infant mortality, 3rd in median household income, 4th in labor force, and 4th in exports. We lead the world in only three categories: Number of incarcerated citizens per capita, number of adults who believe angels are real, and defense spending, where we spend more than the next 26 countries combined, 25 of whom are allies. Now, none of this is the fault of a 20-year-old college student, but you, nonetheless, are without a doubt a member of the Worst. Generation. Ever. So when you ask what makes us the greatest country in the world, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. America is not the greatest country in the world anymore.”

Why was I so angry in high school?

OH, RIGHT.

Once upon a time, THIS:

I didn’t want him at first

But I wanted his body.

And not in a carnal way.

Just in a temperature and weight and matter way.

I wanted to feel warm life next to me, a backdrop of shallow slumbering breaths, his arm resting in the sharp valley between the mountains of breast and hip, his fingers curling in dreamstate on my skin.

But once I got that, I wanted him.

All of him.

Also, whoa or woah?

NO CLUE ACTUALLY.

“Like I used to be.”

Mmmm…yeah, I’m happy. I’m happy that I’m happy, and I’m happy that I’m feeling. At this point in my life, regardless of whether I feel something positive or something negative, I just know that I’m FEELING and I feel SO ALIVE and I am so happy to be alive. Whether I’m doing the right thing for this society or not, I am doing what makes ME feel good. I’m only here for let’s say a bit less than 80 years and who knows what after that. I’m alive, and I can perceive and experience the world around me, and that is more than enough that I could ever ask for. I love the Earth and all that is naturally here, I love all people, and all plants, and all living beings. I love everything and I’m feeling so much love that I could seriously cry right now. I love feeling this alive. I just really love to love.

can’t find the words to make you understand

my pulse is pounding so hard i can feel it in my bones, the whining ache of it all through my veins. blood pumping pumping pumping pushing kicking screaming blue-black life, and i don’t feel alive enough. i can only feel that when you are kissing the knees of my body; the non-literal knees, but the triumph of your body on mine is sweet and sour and bitter in the way of childhood candy that almost brings tears to your eyes but you keep it on your tongue anyway, tantalizingly sweet pain against the roof of your mouth. you are like starbursts on my skin, you are like the life coming alive to me, only for me. you are the warm skin against warm skin, you are the whispers sheltered in the shell of my ear. you are the almost almost almost oh-my-god outcry, you are the bitter bitter bitter sweet sour salty skin on my tongue. you are the pain i love to press against the roof of my mouth, you are the only thing i open my eyes for. you are mine you are mine you are mine mine mine mine.

nails pricking skin sweet bare skin and i feel alive just breathing in your air.