Things We Said

Some Summer Time Goals:

- Go to the doctor and find out why my head has declared war on me. 
- Have that problem fixed.
- Get my ass on my bicycle once my head has stopped spinning.
- Gather the courage to talk to the cute stranger I’ve been eying.
- New Tattoo is also on the itinerary.
- Save money if medical expenses allow that to happen.
- Write some new songs. 

Then in the fall I have to get a second job and grow up and blah blah blah. 

I have literal salt in my actual wounds and I want to put my head down. 

I’m a coward you know. I always have been. It’s why I’m so quiet. There are so many things I never say. I let people who mean everything walk away, because I’m scared, terrified of what they would say if I asked them to stay. If I asked them to ask me to stay. 
I’m jealous. I’m so goddamn jealous of your talents. And I know you’re way too good for me, but I’m not a terrible person. I put up all these walls and false faces, but I’m just as soft and caring as the next girl. Maybe even more. At least when  it comes to you. 
I won’t stand up for myself. I won’t tell you about what might make me worthy of your time. But I’m going to write about you one day. All the little things I did that you never noticed. How I felt about you. How impressed I was. How you made me feel like I didn’t matter. How I let you do that to me. How I convinced myself several times a week that you weren’t worth the effort and realized I was lying to myself as much as I was lying to everyone else. 
I don’t think I can ever give up on you. 
I hope every fucking day that I will find the courage to leave you behind.
But even more so I wish you would realize that I’d stay, just for you, but only if you asked me to. 

Let’s curl up under the covers and whisper about books. I’m seeing a lot of reoccurring themes in Margaret Atwood’s novels (not complaining). Think of it as a sexy book club. 

Importance. There’s a weight to that word. You can feel its form roll off of your tongue. You can hold it in your hand, run your fingers over its edges. In shape and theory it means something. It means a lot (almost everything). But does it really? You can always say something, produce words, like important, without ever having anything behind them to back them up, to bring them home. Even the genuine ones can wear out with time and you begin to wonder was it ever really that important?
Was I ever really that important?

Anonymous asked: I want to do horrible things with your feet. Unforgivable things.

That’s a shame. I don’t let people touch my feet. I’m too ticklish. 

Anonymous asked: Touche. Anyway. I think you're perfect looking. For whatever that's worth.

shucks ^_^

Anonymous asked: I more meant do you find yourself attractive, because I don't. Just kidding. I even more meant do you hold yourself in high esteem? And why.

I’m a girl, of course I don’t hold myself in high esteem.