— F. Scott Fitzgerald - “The Great Gatsby” (via manicmuse)
Lover, will you look at me now? I’m already dead to you, but I’m inclined to explain what I could not before..
I can literally hear my friends sitting outside in the yard, but I can’t work up the wherewithal to go outside & be present.
Where did that drive go?
When did it get to be so hard to be social, to WANT to be social?
I’m just sensitive, I guess. I’m re-wiring & I feel delicate.
Last night I had a dream that I was living in Anaheim, working as a Disney Princess, or maybe I was a robot, whatever, that’s besides the point.
I just keep dreaming about ex-boyfriends, ex-lovers, future-lovers, I mean, what’s the difference really? The lines just start to get blurry at a certain point.
Ice cream for breakfast again.
This headache never really seems to go away.
I’ve been drawing comfort in browsing the cheap flight listings on air fare websites. There’s something so reassuring about a one-way ticket.
I’ve been taking the power back. I don’t put myself in situations because I feel like it’s what I’m “supposed” to do anymore.
Fuck that, I am a goddess.