—i just like this one line i wrote (via writingaboutnothingforever)
there are scars on my body left over from when 17 hurt too much. and 18. and 19. some habits are hard to break. and i wonder if 20 will be different. i wonder if i’ll sleep with the same boy twice. i wonder if there will be a boy worth sleeping with more than once. i wonder if whiskey will taste as good when its legal.
and i see 15 year olds kissing on the metro. and i wonder if i looked that silly when i was 15 years old and kissing in city hall park. and i wonder if 20 will make kissing in public feel less silly.
i wonder if 20 will make anything feel less silly. i wonder if 20 will make bringing a boy home less awkward. i wonder if 20 will make my poetry better. i wonder if 20 will make me a better friend. a better girlfriend. a better fuck.
will 20 make me better.
will 20 make me better?
from my writing blog
so fuck that shit
which i totally forgot until like 1am but ohwell i just slept in and made myself coffee and breakfast and i’m just very happy right now
and like a mass exodus of families and i was so angry and i was like “ugh fucking tourists” and then outside i went to get coffee and called rebbes and almost got hit by a police car and i was like “ugh fucking police” and then i continued to walk home and there were police everywhere and then all of a sudden like eight helicopters and anyway there was a shooting at the zoo (one block from my apartment) but i’m fine and i’m making dinner and it smells pretty good
no classes on fridays no classes on fridays i’m going to go to new york all the time
i quit being catholic but any day that is an excuse to eat a lot of chocolate and sugar covered marshmallows is a good day in my book
i’m in my bed in vermont and i never want to get out and i never want to go back to washington i just want to stay here
i have sunk to a new low