Honestly I’m not sure if I should just keep holding on or let go. It’s stupid to hold onto something that just keeps hurting you, but it’s also stupid to let go of everything you’ve wanted. 


I want

 I want a nice guy, a guy who will sweep me off my feet, a guy who at 3 in the morning wakes up and decides he wants to go the beach, a guy whose hands are strong and rugged like he has been working all day. 

Someone who is intelligent and knows about a 100 different things about stuff you’ve probably never even heard of. 

Someone who looks at me and sees more than the average person, who sees inside of you without even trying.

Someone like the guy I just lost.

What makes us human?

Lines, thats all we are, lines in the sand of what makes us human. The skies scream for us to look at it, but we are too blinded by the thirst for money, power and beauty. I don’t remember the last time i got a good nights sleep, sleep is just the absence of you. consciously closing my eyes and knowing you are not there makes sleeping non existent, almost like you. gone. gone before the day turns bright and gone long enough to make sure it stays dark forever. you’re the kind that leaves imprints on peoples lives, changes them, makes them grow into another supreme being of their former self. but why can’t i change? this devil defines who i am and these devils will end up killing me. let go of the past they say, and then what? look towards the narrowing and less promising future that no longer flashes in my direction. have we gone mad here? has the whole world forgotten sanity, forgotten the very place we set our foot when we walk defines so much in such a small detail. and those small details are what make us human.


I tend to think I am this great writer and that I know so much because I am going to school for it, but I was just in the library well I still am actually, but I was looking through all these books about creative writing and made me think.

I have no idea what I am doing.

There are so many technical and formatted ways to write, for a multitude of different things to writing for advertisements, novels, citations, and even how the creative mind is simply trying to escape the body it is attached too and the only way it knows how is by what we express. (Totally thought of that on my own but it sounds cool, right?) Now this hasn’t diminished my want to write or dwindle my passion, but it did but a little tiny knife in my eye because I feel like I am not using my skills to their full advantage. But what can a book tell me about writing that I can’t figure out or learn as I go, that at least is how I view my writing. I started reading before kindergarden, and I was attending writing workshops and camps by the time I was in 4th grade. So I know what I am doing, but then I read a book on writing for advertisements and I kind of stepped back and had to reevaluate what I want to do with my life. I am 20 years old, I have changed my major twice and now I have a job for a music magazine and I am moving to New York for a job and a gig that I have on October 18th. I know I want to write, but for who and for what. 

All I know is that I like music, i like food and I like sleep.

So lets start there.


totally random post. just ignore me.