it doesn't matter, at the end of the day.. at the end of everything, I just want to get back to you.

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its everything.. or its nothing

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i just really want to crawl in my bed and bury myself under the covers until tomorrow.

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fuck bug bites.

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just close your eyes and count to ten

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i love the smell of october nights


just sayin

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a thousand million backed up words and feelings.

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and yet there you sit.. with a white sheet of paper, covered with black pen marks, that you are so determined to remove with your eraser. like that would do anything. like you don't even realize how maniacal you look , while you refuse to accept the new, clean sheet right beside your desk.

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