...and stop buying clothes. because when your alone whos guna even look at them.
Maybe this self appreciation isnt even cutting it anymore.
These are thoughts, i dont even wanna put down onto a blog,
but if they arnt put down for me to see then
I will eventually forget about them like every other idea i had to better myself,
because I must have forgotton, i mean, look...
If not for baby I wouldnt even have dreams anymore,
I think thats the reason why I left everything behind.
I wish i was surrounded by dreamers, big dreamers.
I know of some with similar goals, but no one is brave enough to do anything about them.
obviously, we can blame it on being the wrong time and place.
but, ive been doing that for only so long.
I just want to go rage out on a canvas,
find myself in color and tones untill I find out who my artist identity is again.
because right now im fucking no one, on a path to nowhere,
and with the potential to be nothing else but
and (hopefully) with the destiny to be somthing.
but, I have to fucking move in a direction.
because this standing still shit isnt happening anymore.
I should stop waiting for someone to hold my hand and hold my own, fuck.
such a goddamn baby.
maybe failing was a reminder that I dont have that:
"sit down and do nothing while somthing magical conjures itself up"
talent I always assumed I possessed.
nothing comes easy. why the hell did I forget that in a mass of depression.
you can only go up from here.
365 days per year of my youth, and i dont want to waste anymore fucking days.
baby, lets move away already.