can't you tell i'm faking: this air iz so thick &lonely ♥ - 3:58am

i don't know what to write, i guess i just know i should write something. this can only resuly in something short and detached.


i met so many people this week&it has gone so quickly,, it says a lot about sitting alone for days on end.
i start back in college on monday &i can feel my mind flickering different cadences, though most of them are positive ♥ college is so bland&i feel an immediate disinterest towards everyone there- it's a sin!
i always seem to end up in Stephen's Green alone? your mind is a mess when you're nostalgic and hopeful/reading melancholic poetry is slowly obliterating the certainty that i'll ambulate grey concrete for the rest of my life- sitting behind frail stems verging blurs of green. reading dreamy novels about running away ♥
it's 4:28am- maybe next week in college won't be so different afterall?






'Relentless walls! whose darksome round contains
Repentant sighs, and voluntary pains:
Ye rugged rocks! which holy knees have worn;
Ye grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid thorn!
Shrines! where their vigils pale-ey'd virgins keep,
And pitying saints, whose statues learn to weep!
Though cold like you, unmov'd, and silent grown,
I have not yet forgot myself to stone.
All is not Heav'n's while Abelard has part,
Still rebel nature holds out half my heart;
Nor pray'rs nor fasts its stubborn pulse restrain,
Nor tears, for ages, taught to flow in vain.'

- Eloisa to Abelard is sickly beautiful.

i lost her train of thought/she lost my mind/she told that girl our entire story in 10minutes.

tonight Jess&I fluttered all over the streets we grew up around. we talked for hours about how everyone we've been to school with is separate&fragmented together at exactly the same time. everything is different.

we sit on concrete. dirty cigarette smoke clambers desperately, racing to lonely warehouse lighting surrounded by four empty, pale walls. and in the cold smiles chatter - while fingers persuasively slither around lukewarm papercups for a weary warmth - teeth whistle. scales of beating footsteps abandon our lull but we talk, still...
i inhale/ everything she says/ seeps in/ like delicate blue/ gradually/ deliberately/...i/our/y meyesss
mirrors shatter in the flames.
i told her what happened, y'know. almost all of it- there's only so long you can listen to it. that and the sound of my own voice is beginning to repulse me? sick.


i haven't written in so long it's as if he language has changed.
but soon, i'll have pictures to add to my days x