im sorry for the shit posts

imagine being the first ancient person to realize that the ocean and their tears taste the same. imagine realizing that your sorrow and the waves share a taste. i wouldve gone crazy

head full but i dont even know what’s in there

actually, growing up is feeling like i turned sixteen two days ago. i’ve been eighteen for years. fifteen year olds seem so young. wasn’t i fifteen just a few weeks ago? all my friends and i are still twelve. i’m closer to thirty than to being a baby. i never got to be a kid. i never grew past eight. i can’t talk to my mom. i want to sit in her lap forever. i want to decide everything for myself. i need someone to tell me exactly what to do. the week is going by so slow. an entire year has passed.

are you living or are you just jumping from one obsession to the other to run away from yourself

what are you the coping mechanism police or something

mike’s hard past couple of months