The air within the frame is thick with unvoiced thoughts, a whispered name that hangs unspoken between the viewer's gaze and that still figure lost in morning's haze. A shared solitude etched in brushstrokes, deep. We stand here, watching them watch.
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AWndMith a dash of self-hatred
Iy favorite is isolation
d have a lot to choose from
Irink a lot of poison
It makes me want to
I'm not a loving person
Af someone told me
Nnd I'm f*cking terrified
Tobody knows this about me
Ihat I am love personified
have this ego that is scary
I talked about how I ended up in the city I'm in now. About how, for what reasons. About my ex-boyfriend, about the debts I incurred with him, which continued to grow after our breakup, and have now grown so large that I'll most likely have to file for bankruptcy...
Wasted opportunities grabs me by the ankles, like quick sand in a deep jungle terrain. I try to get my life together, but the recoup only brings more pain. Will I ever get back to the man I was becoming or is it too late?