i dont care at this point if i get that little yellow house with the big yard
i dont care if i get my own craft room that ive spent weeks on painting the walls with my nana's old paint.
i dont care if at night my pomeranian and two cats will ever end up cuddling with me every night
i dont care if every day all i ever do is be creative
i dont care if a nightingale comes to me each night and sings me to sleep
i dont care if i end up with you or i end up having to live alone for the rest of my life
as much as i want that to happen. i dont care
i want to be happy that is all
i care about the fact that my sassafras tea doesnt fill me up with creativeness like a draught that flows through every single part of my blood stream
i care that my medication hasnt done much besides have me pray to god that maybe tonight i wont focus on the fact that i am indeed alone
i Care about how on some days i just want to see the color that blood turns after it has been smudged with someone desperately trying to prevent you from bleeding too much.
I care that my soul has become a green so god damn dark that it is almost black
i acre that maybe perhaps you and i will last past our 25th year
i care so much. i want to be better
i want to stop thinking of you every single night of every day desperately waiting for myself to fall asleep
i want to break out of the routine ive set for myself
i want to go outside and let the cottonwood fill my nasal cavity to the point where i cannot breathe and i am bedridden for 3 weeks.
i want to sit down and just relax
i want to finish at least one piece of art before breaking down because i realize that theres a good chance all it will ever do for as long as i live is collect dust before i end up finding it and sigh about how much i wish i could be that creative again
i was so happy once a year ago but who actually cares
me. i care. please dear god i want to be happy again. i want to enjoy life i dont care i care i want.
i dont care if i get my own craft room that ive spent weeks on painting the walls with my nana's old paint.
i dont care if at night my pomeranian and two cats will ever end up cuddling with me every night
i dont care if every day all i ever do is be creative
i dont care if a nightingale comes to me each night and sings me to sleep
i dont care if i end up with you or i end up having to live alone for the rest of my life
as much as i want that to happen. i dont care
i want to be happy that is all
i care about the fact that my sassafras tea doesnt fill me up with creativeness like a draught that flows through every single part of my blood stream
i care that my medication hasnt done much besides have me pray to god that maybe tonight i wont focus on the fact that i am indeed alone
i Care about how on some days i just want to see the color that blood turns after it has been smudged with someone desperately trying to prevent you from bleeding too much.
I care that my soul has become a green so god damn dark that it is almost black
i acre that maybe perhaps you and i will last past our 25th year
i care so much. i want to be better
i want to stop thinking of you every single night of every day desperately waiting for myself to fall asleep
i want to break out of the routine ive set for myself
i want to go outside and let the cottonwood fill my nasal cavity to the point where i cannot breathe and i am bedridden for 3 weeks.
i want to sit down and just relax
i want to finish at least one piece of art before breaking down because i realize that theres a good chance all it will ever do for as long as i live is collect dust before i end up finding it and sigh about how much i wish i could be that creative again
i was so happy once a year ago but who actually cares
me. i care. please dear god i want to be happy again. i want to enjoy life i dont care i care i want.
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