Stupid piercing. Again.
Another tattoo- the ninth, but the first one that means anything to me.
The delicious melancholy of a break up.
The delicious melancholy of not being in love.
I'm sorry.
Work being rad.
Fractured jaw. Again. Soup month again?
Not really knowing where to go home.
New sheets.
Old sweater.
Yoga.
Singing 'So Long, Farewell' every evening as Emma leaves for work.
The man from Tiger Tiger telling me that I've lost too much weight, and giving me free breakfast every morning.
Feeling bad because I only drink the green tea.
Asthma attacks.
Not answering my phone.
Being genuinely happy for my friends- stay beautiful, because someone has to remind me that it still exists.
Koby, I miss you. I hate you for doing this. How can you take your life when some people don't even have a choice?
We're not the same.
But the thought that we are keeps me awake every night.
I need new blogs to read. Someone who feels just like me, please, but a little less numb. Say the words that I can't find- say them however you want, I don't even care if you spell like a dyslexic, just remind me that I'm not the only one awake at stupid hours.
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