i need an outlet that isn’t losing my mind

to put down the fifths, to throw the cigarettes out the window

i think it was my nana who stole my last pack

and the most humiliating part is that she’s gone

gone is exactly how i spend my time

out of sorts and vacant minded

all internally;  i’ve gotten scary good at the external shit 

guess that comes with age

anyway, i am proud of my loses because nothing can stay the same way forever

i am thankful for those who aren’t around as much because i’ve found people who wanna be around just enough to let me know they give a fuck

22 is a weird age, i feel so insignificant and invisible and in a strange way i kinda love it

my home feels like a home for the first time in a long time, i think i’ve found closure with my misleading nostalgia of the suburbs

it’s all weird and okay and i’m honestly fine

i don’t know what else to say

so i’m gonna leave it at that.

Wish I could hold this life all on my own two shoulders. I always imagined a life on my own, one full of perspective and wisdom. One faulted by nostalgia and reminiscing. One lived fully and indecisively. I always have you in mind, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But tell me why I still dream of cities far away from here in a time of my life where you just aren’t there? A life alone is a dream of my own. I can’t explain it, I won’t deny it. I’ll keep moving whether you’re here or you’re gone. And I’ll never, ever be sorry for that.

Longing for a difference that will never see the surface.