Run away from gossip. From mistakes. From people that make me feel awkward and people that make me feel sad. Run away from failure. Run away from embarassment. Run away from letting people down.



Run away from all the bad decisions I've made, and from all the ways I can't fix them. Run away from a messy room and live out of a messy car. Run away from needing to get somewhere, from needing to be someone.



I want to pick up leave. I want to camp out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere I've never been. I want to shed any reputations I may have created for myself, and meet new people who don't give a fuck. I want to stop giving a fuck.


I want to dream big and sleep well.
I want to create something beautiful and wonderful, but not for myself and not for anyone else. I want to do it for it to be done.



I love my friends, but I'm tired of them. The only one I'm not tired of, I get the feeling is growing out of me.

I'm not growing up and I don't know why.














_{-apologizes for the extra depressed sounding entries lately. I'm most poetic and prolific when I'm feeling bad, so that's the only time I feel like writing-}

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