Lost habits.
Still a teenager at heart. I keep thinking over and over again about my perfect life. I got all the little fuzzy things that go straight to my heart and make me feel soft and warm. I got the man with the strong arms, I got the new cast iron pots that I can't wait to try out, got my comfy couch and red cotton sheets and pink wine and dark chocolate and apple pie and my ebook reader and Pride and Prejudice and Grey's Anatomy and the long orchid dress and the black suede shoes with a ribbon and the cat tattoo on my back.
However I feel so stuck. Shopping is just another way of coping. I am the walking image of The Narrator before Tyler Durden. I got Ikea catalogs and Ikea pots and knives. Shopping for pots and bio lavender essence. Shoes and dresses. The cat tattoo. When will the fighting begin? It has to begin, it just has to!
Yet again, always missing something. Always running for the great unknown and always fearing it. Always a teenager, filled with overflowing passion. I just can't handle the intensity anymore. Or can I?
I used to ditch relationships because I always feel so intensely it hurts. Just like sex. Sometimes it hurts and you flinch but then again it's so intense that you can't help going back there again and again and again.
I'm just too self-conscious. I avoid losing myself in what I want to feel as I already know that I can only feel things at maximum intensity and maximum intensity always hurts like hell. I lose myself in powerful embraces. When my bones begin to crack I feel loved.
I'm a weird creature. I keep telling myself to write a darn book, maybe I'd release some of the suppressed energy. Too bad I cannot spend all this intensity in sports, I'd be no less than Usain Bolt.
Still a teenager at heart. I keep thinking over and over again about my perfect life. I got all the little fuzzy things that go straight to my heart and make me feel soft and warm. I got the man with the strong arms, I got the new cast iron pots that I can't wait to try out, got my comfy couch and red cotton sheets and pink wine and dark chocolate and apple pie and my ebook reader and Pride and Prejudice and Grey's Anatomy and the long orchid dress and the black suede shoes with a ribbon and the cat tattoo on my back.
However I feel so stuck. Shopping is just another way of coping. I am the walking image of The Narrator before Tyler Durden. I got Ikea catalogs and Ikea pots and knives. Shopping for pots and bio lavender essence. Shoes and dresses. The cat tattoo. When will the fighting begin? It has to begin, it just has to!
Yet again, always missing something. Always running for the great unknown and always fearing it. Always a teenager, filled with overflowing passion. I just can't handle the intensity anymore. Or can I?
I used to ditch relationships because I always feel so intensely it hurts. Just like sex. Sometimes it hurts and you flinch but then again it's so intense that you can't help going back there again and again and again.
I'm just too self-conscious. I avoid losing myself in what I want to feel as I already know that I can only feel things at maximum intensity and maximum intensity always hurts like hell. I lose myself in powerful embraces. When my bones begin to crack I feel loved.
I'm a weird creature. I keep telling myself to write a darn book, maybe I'd release some of the suppressed energy. Too bad I cannot spend all this intensity in sports, I'd be no less than Usain Bolt.
