Song of the Post: Michigan - The Milk Carton Kids
I don't really know how or why to write anymore. Maybe you don't understand I mean, really write. From the brain, the heart or the soul or wherever the hell the supposed beautiful painful dark stuff comes from. I put too much pressure on myself to produce such writing that inspires and to be like the college girl I look up to so much who is so eloquent with words it makes me angry. I feel like when I write and it turns out to be complete shit [(just like this and every other time)Sorry about the language, I just don't know how to get across my feelings] it hits me harder than it probably should. People's blogs are starting to get repetitive. I want to write about a beautiful kind of love, the kind that people spend their whole lives dreaming of. but I don't think that I've never experienced that kind of love, or any worthwhile kind at all so if I tried to write about it, I'd just end up pulling it out of my butt, and I don't know if that's the best place for love to originate. What the hell, here are some pictures.
I don't really know what I'm doing with my
life.
Try to love, Alex
Fart words. That's what I call them.
ReplyDeleteI think you're a little too hard on yourself. You're great and I like you. A lot. ;)
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