my words are still scarce, and i miss them.
and i have too many essays to write and not nearly enough motivation
for any of them.
sociology and psychology are both interesting, but my attention span isn't
nearly long enough for me to take it all in, and understand it to its full extent.
i just cannot concentrate, and i'm not doing well given i'm only
a few short weeks into first term.
nothing is making my blood race, and the oceans that are in my
chest are slowing and stilling and i miss the constant
rush that reminded me to breath.
somethings got to give.
i have things i'm planning to get done in the next few weeks
there are addresses nestled in my inboc, awaiting letters and care
packages and general love from the other side of the world.
[you know who you are, and i promise it will get there soon]
i want to get a tattoo on me as soon as i can, i've been 18 for long enough
and i need something on me to stay strong, before i run dry of everything
and crumble into dust. i need his words on my skin, and i need to
be able to look at it whenever my chest tightens and i feel like
i'm about to pass out.
[eugh, i am not really okay. its hard to explain this feeling]
but i am too poor to afford it, and i'm yet to find the right words.
[emily, your lovely ink re-sparked the intense love for this]
i also need to get my mind back, and brush the dust off my camera and start finding
the beautiful side of this world again, and realise that its more than just
whatever green is creeping across my skin.
forests, and water and his body will make it better.
how are all of you?
does anyone have any prompts i can have a go at?
see if i can get my words back little bit by little bit?
ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
the last chapter here.
my loves.
its been so long since i was here, and so much in my life has moved, shifted, healed and changed.
all for the better. just so much better and calmer and happier.
i've stopped being bitter about g and f and ghost boy. all in the past, all bruises have healed and i'm done making them reappear for the sake of words that sound pretty but just make my insides hurt.
the boy who i've been with for 9 years, the boy who broke my heart before i created this account, the boy who i've been with since i was 13 and who i've fought with and made up a million times since , asked me to be his forever on new years day this year, and i couldnt pos
perhaps.
napowrimo is almost upon us,
and this account is feeling more like home again.
i dont know if anyone is still here, but i might be less of a ghost in the coming weeks.
please bare with me, my words are incredibly new to me, i feel like i'm learning all over again.
-stacie
-announcement-
i made this account 3 years ago the night before valentines day.
i was hurt, i was angry and i had outgrown the account before this one long before.
on this account i have grown, i have turned from a hurting and melodramatic 17 year old with a penchant
for metaphors about oceans and bruises and bones, who had too many ghosts that were mostly self inflicted into a bitter and sarcastic almost 21 year old whose muse is a dysfunctional relationship between two gay men.
some of my greatest pieces are within this account.
i've compiled two books and gotten a DD.
i made friends, fell in love, and lost almost everyone again.
most are gone no
30.
i write still
and i still submit here
and try and contribute
but i feel like this place has little to nothing
left to offer me anymore.
almost everyone has left
and people too often fave and run
without commenting
or trying to communicate.
i just dont feel like i belong here anymore.
© 2012 - 2024 ohsparrowsong
Comments26
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i hope you feel better love!
(you write so beautifully when you talk about 'he'. makes me curious)
i am majoring in psychology, only (slowly) learning i don't give enough fucks to care D:
for prompts ideas (only short story): i am currently trying to write with styles unlike my own. i am not doing very well, haha, but i am trying.
much love, i hope you feel better!
(you write so beautifully when you talk about 'he'. makes me curious)
i am majoring in psychology, only (slowly) learning i don't give enough fucks to care D:
for prompts ideas (only short story): i am currently trying to write with styles unlike my own. i am not doing very well, haha, but i am trying.
much love, i hope you feel better!