Me, corner of Main and Center, wet hair, Harm’s Way pentagram shirt, piece of cold pizza, waiting for the light to change. I am very tired. I look deranged. I just paid $5 for the worst pumpkin spice latte I have ever had. I have an hour and a half to write a 4 page paper. Would be easier if I knew what I was writing about. Would be easier if I had any desire to write anything that isn’t a list of things I want to buy once I have money. Which will be never. Things on the list include but are not limited to: Lita boots, hi-def foundation, a grinder, a press, and a car. White girl problems.
“You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You’re chicken, you’ve got no guts. You’re afraid to stick out your chin and say, “Okay, life’s a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.” You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing,” and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.”—(via wolverineblues)
Thanks to a mix I made in 2009, I was reminded of the perfect song to do weird dances to in my car on a beautiful day. Its a beautiful day, the windows are all the way open, and I’m dressed like a witch. “So you’re wishing that you never did all the embarrassing things you’ve done, and you’re wishing you could set it right, and you’re wishing you could stay the night. But then I go again, wishing never solved a problem, if you wanna get it big time, go ahead and get it get it big time.”