(Source: cannolis)

sometimes i see the things i do and i feel how i am acting and i just fucking hate it. but its like im watching my body run on autopilot, and i cant stop the plane from crashing. i do things i dont want to do, and say things i dont want to say, and most enormously i feel things i have no intention of feeling. but the feelings consume and shake me and break me down until i find myself on my back looking up at the sky.

when i was little i was often jealous of the ocean. it was so big and encompassing that it couldn’t be occupied by simply one thing. nothing could fill the ocean up entirely, it consisted of so many different elements. it was rough and rocky on one side of the earth and calm and quiet on the other. i felt like though these elements were so unpredictable to us that they were in control of themselves. the ocean always possessed an understanding of itself.

when i look at myself all the insults are bottled up and they shake around in my head. they fizzle and foam outside my mouth in various consumptions of junk food and obnoxious dialect. i wish i could tape it all up. i wish i could be liked by everyone, but time shows the cracks in every structure. we can’t all be like the ocean. we can’t last forever. perhaps that is why its so sure of itself. perhaps if i didn’t have an unclear expiration date i wouldn’t be scrambling about as clumsily as i do now. 

(Source: st4ytru3)

high there…

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(Source: jarrodis)

Posted on
Sunday
reblog
good mornin’ america.

good mornin’ america.

(Source: existinart)

(Source: synodik)