A success vs. a fiasco?
I’m sitting in our hotel room, everyone is rummaging around frantically trying to organize their things. Food. Why is it that people always feel an overwhelming urge to plan their lives around it? There it is! ED’d or not, it is the center of attention.
(via aaaartstar)
This is beautiful. I want to keep practicing drawing so I can create something beautiful like this.
I’m detaching myself.
Erasing all my utterly impracticable expectations.
“I am better off alone.”
I am better, off alone.
Silencing my feelings, no where will it be shown.
I’m drilling it deep into my head.
Engraving it, and carving a well aside my bed,
Filling it to the brim with this absurdly inane conception.
The idea that the world is in and of itself, a deception.
Someone come find me.
Free me from all this ambiguity.
I have unknowingly conditioned myself, to find confidence in Doubt.
Let go, just let go.
Settle for this, and allow satisfaction in simplicty.
I am suffocating, no air to breathe, no room for rationality.
Choking on your lack of presence.
Will anything ever make sense?
Smoked marijuana all day yesterday, and @ around 10 a few friends and I went to this beach party about 30 minutes away. Specks of red, orange, and yellow grew as the boat neared the party. Tiki torches lit a dim path to a bonfire, where everyone gathered to eat, drink, and smoke. Everyone was inhebriated and/ or stoned. I went on a hike with six or so other people that were at the party. My feet were covered in sand as I stumbled to sit down on the little hill. Gazing up at the sky, I found it was consumed with stars and contained one very crescent shaped moon. I sat by a stranger, a stranger that came off as a particularly friendly creature. I kept to myself most of the time since there were very few familiar faces I could depict. This stranger appeared as the stereotypical hippie. Scruffy, dreadlocks, earthfriendly and all. He told me about his interests, thoughts, and goals of saving our earth. We smoked a joint in the woods, and we smoked bowl after bowl around the bonfire. So it didn’t take long for everything to lose it’s sense and security. We left the island at around 12-1AM, me and the group from earlier. Fast foward through all the bullshit. I find myself lost because I spent my very drunken night with a 22 yr old, hippie on his yacht. I was still fucked up when I woke up this morning on the top deck. Everything was still spinning, the breeze of the cold air seeped through the thin sheets of the blanket covering me. He knew I wasn’t feelig at all ok with myself afterwards. He said to me, “What’s wrong? You need to smile more.”, “You can talk to me about anything.” Everything was wrong. I wanted to cry. How could I talk to him, about him?
