The thoughts whirl in my head, not quite like clouds but something of the sort, maybe like this picture I blogged this one day. Or better reblogged. They’re all borrowed. Turned to thoughts in my head, meshed into a bouquet of flowers, green running like wildfire but a tranquil wildfire like the morning tendril of a cascading plant out the window. There’s these trees and a yellow house...
It’s like putting kerosine in the well what we’ve done. The water we just can’t drink it right now but we don’t understand exactly why. We just keep wanting to set fires but the water holds us back and for good reason.
Anonymous asked: When you feel sad or feel alone what do you do? I used to be someone who laughs all the time and just be happy and then i have no idea how or when this changed my friends notices it too, i became well sad and usually not talk too much anymore sometimes i really fight that urge but usually it doesn't help and so i feel so negative please please please help me cat and thank you i always admire...
Anonymous asked: Are you writing a book?
There’s a difference between love and lust like the difference between a hippie and an activist the hippie sees the flower and yes maybe revels in its beauty maybe that acid was just so good that they never wanna come back They want to live in the damn flower. The activist sees the flower and yes it is beautiful, but it sees the many levels and depths upon which this flower experiences...
coarse skin against my t shirt if he was perfect we’d have nothing to imagine and beneath his many layers where he thinks he falters that’s where I fall in
Anonymous asked: hi :) i heard you put an album out.. if so where can i hear it or buy it? and what is it called? love your music. also.. are you still writing a book? much love xx