Living life is what I do best

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

I write things that

don't make sense

because

I can't figure myself out.

-SC

Posted by Scapot at 10:57 PM

Scapot: I can never seem to word what I'm thinking appropriately. I like to wonder why I'm here, why It's me and not someone else. I'm constantly feeling, over analyzing, trying to decide how to put myself onto a piece of paper. Thinking maybe one time I will be able to write my whole being in two sentences, sometimes it almost feels possible. I want to have the ability to relate to someone, or to have someone relate to me. I'm young and reckless, and for now that's okay. I'm scared of growing up, I'm afraid I'll lose my childish wonder. I feel like after the fact, I'm allowed to be bitter and resentful to certain people. I respect little and love fully. I am still being reached at to be understood. My dreams are vivid, terrifying, sometimes comforting. I have very little guidance in life, not much to build off of. Often I fight with those I love. I don't need much to survive although I possess more than I need.

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