There Is Often Too Much To Say And Not Enough Time. Cliché. A Complete Fiasco. Truthfully... Why Say
There is often too much to say and not enough time. Cliché. a complete fiasco. Truthfully... Why say anything at all?
My mental imagination is where I'd prefer spend each day. I would much rather be at ease with the knowledge that I can somewhat influence the depths of my thoughts.
Time therefore expires. This will happen. There it is. It will tick more quickly. Let it be.
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𝑾𝑨𝒀 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒆. 𝑾𝑨𝒀 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒂𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒆. 𝑾𝑨𝒀, 𝑾𝑨𝒀, 𝑾𝑨𝒀 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆...𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒏, 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.
Never again. And yet? It'll happen again. Fucked up but true— that's what happens when you let life, get the best of you. Cold hearted, bitter and tear stained, so in the end it happened like I imagined and I hurt myself again. Better off just keeping memories and moving on. Conflicted soul, torn thoughts and often alone. That's what happens when life leads us. Be prepared. Be aware. And...never...
There are parts of me that are broken, tangled together, hurtful, and joyful. I've talked about this before, but that ravished part of me doesn't care. I am still learning. Learning how to... To put on paper how I really feel. It goes well beyond the creepy, spooky, and unsettling feelings that I will harbor within me. No fancy talk, no cover-up, just how to...
The high effects of life's ecstasy warn me off. Dull eyes, zombie dragged and drugged, I am a personality bubbled and bright, but only in the dark crooks of my mind. No mask. Uncovered and here to stay. I can be two, three, four, or six people at the same time! I don't want to be trapped in the bug house. I don't want a circus. I'm just letting loose this sticky muse.
There will be another muse like this. This personality will regain its strength and trust me, I'll be here to capture it. I am not someone who locks it up and pretends to be a housewife. Fuck it. Captured it and I'm happy. This is an anxious capture.
To: Angie.
From: Angelina.
Der richtige Weg. Oder das Vorfahrtsrecht, um aus jedem Fehler etwas Besonderes zu machen.
𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒐. 𝑰'𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐, 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌.
𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒆. 𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒔.
𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔.
𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚. 𝑵𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔; 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔; 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔.
𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉'𝒔 𝒊𝒄𝒚, 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓. 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚 𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍.
@yung_pueblo
Where I wanna be. Where I oughta be. Where I will be. ♥️
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