unrequited love is a form of torture.
I love art and beautiful things. I don’t care for being sane or rational in love.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and…
Wow. I hate myself. Who knew?
It’s summer and it’s New York. It rained today, but I think that’s fine because ever since I left the ocean I crave water more and more. I kind of remember how it feels to be under water - it’s a different feeling than being in the shower. When you’re fully submerged you don’t really feel it, you don’t feel a difference between your skin and your surroundings. Anyways, tonight I hung out with friends Anna, Charlotte and Ben (who I dislike - but he’s just a human being - he’s not that bad - he’s ok) - They are nice people. I was brought back - Chet Baker is playing so I can hardly focus on anything but the romance I may have had with him or any other artist if i were living during their time.. I can’t even write anymore. I wasn’t even writing before. I’ll be writing this summer, goodbye. I’ll miss you. I’ll miss everything. <3
Only thing is…
I don’t hear you speak, I only watch your lips move and hope they say my name