you know that feeling when you finally get kissed after a year and a half

and its really nice

and kisses are burned into your neck, and your lips are swollen from them

yeah i missed that 



I’ve spent all night on World of Warcraft despite my wishes to console my sister after her cat died.

I made a Death Knight named Fluffy, and hers was Kitty. As per her wish.

Sitting around her for so long has made me realize that there’s so much more to my life than my nose in books, living my…

Reminds me of my sister. I raised her since she was 1, and I was 11. My brother and I both pretty much raised her for 4 entire years, but even then my mom worked late and went to the gym until 9 PM so my brother and I sacrificed our social lives to take care of this fussy asshole of a youngling.

But she’s the sweetest girl- pure of heart. She idolizes me, even. I don’t know why, I was shitty to her most of the time. But she draws and is really good at her age in art. 

I miss my baby sister………..

Sisters are important, man. My sister is actually 11 now, I’m only 5 years older than she is. But I care for her so much.

There was actually a really, really long time where I was absolutely terrible to her too- then I realized, for whatever reason I don’t remember, that I shouldn’t be. She’s been my gem ever since.

If I’m ever strong for anyone, it’s her. She’s never heard me really babble or cry about things, but I’ll continue to hold her and cuddle her when things go wrong. 

I’d do anything for my baby. I -do- do anything for her. I continue to. She’s pure like yours. She’s just too good for her -own- good sometimes, and that sort of scares me. I never want to see her in a situation where she can get terribly hurt and abused. 

I think I’d feel like it was my fault if she did? I don’t know why, but the scenario played out in my head and I felt guilty. 

Oh well. I love my Stevie Rae. <3

I’ve spent all night on World of Warcraft despite my wishes to console my sister after her cat died.

I made a Death Knight named Fluffy, and hers was Kitty. As per her wish.

Sitting around her for so long has made me realize that there’s so much more to my life than my nose in books, living my life from behind a computer screen, misery, tears and poetry. 

My sister, at this point, is almost my daughter. I love her unconditionally. I should probably set her a better example.

So, my dear. When skies are dark and the moon can’t come out, smile.

Don’t sit in your room with your head in your hands after everyone leaves you. 

Don’t write bad poetry. Don’t compare everything to fire and ice, ebony and ivory and ash and materialization.

Don’t spend your life with your nose stuck in research, though do terribly in school.

Please, love yourself. You are more beautiful than words can describe, and you are my heart. You are my life. You’re my sister. You are genuine, kind, creative, loving, perhaps too much. You are -kind- and special.

I’m setting an example for you now, listen.

I’m working. I’m trying. I’m doing well in school, I’m going back to a real high school next year, and then I’m going to college. I’ve had this planned. It’s happening.

Don’t follow in my footsteps. Do better than I did. -Always- do well in school. -Always- smile. -Always- feel beautiful. -Always- listen to cheerful music. -Always- be kind.

Don’t succumb to the melancholy tones of psychedelic rock and 80’s dark wave. They don’t help. 

All I want is for you to be happy, healthy, and you. 

Right now, we’re about to ‘Uncover the Light of Dawn’ and go into a massive battle with blood raining down from the sky. And you’re giggling because you think the lore is cheesy.

Well, you’re right kid. The lore is pretty cheesy. But the most joyful things are cheesy.

Which brings me to another point. Don’t get sucked into this alternative universe because it helps. It doesn’t help. It isn’t harmful, but it is detrimental. I hope you stay away from this game and continue to blush when your boyfriend-thing tells you you look pretty in your swimsuit, and continue to try out for soccer and swimming, and keep walking up on that auditorium stage when your name gets called because you’re on the honor roll. Don’t let it take your life away- and please, don’t spend more than three hours on it a day. Avoid it completely if you can. I wish I would have.

I won’t show you this, of course. You wouldn’t understand. But you’ll see it one day when you can get it. 

I love you, with all my heart. I’ll sleep in your fort tonight with you. But you’ll be massaging my old-ass back when we wake up.

There’s a few things I need to remind myself time and time again; that I’m human. That I’m better than I think I am. That I’m more alive than I believe myself to be.

I’m surrounding myself with a new group of people. I’m surrounding myself with shrouds of positive energy, and plenty of positive people. Though it hasn’t seemed to get through to me yet. 

I’m so used to being in this constant state of ‘darkness’, that anything other than it feels odd. It feels weird to smile. It sounds entirely cliche; but call me the Queen of Theatrics. The feelings of joy, comfort, warmth and familiarity nearly bring me to stumped confusion- I can hardly remember what they mean anymore.

My whole life is one large contradiction; and I am my life- so as am I.

I find myself constantly battling myself- to light and dark, to clean or unclean, to strong or to weak, to everything in the world. Everything is a battle, everything is a fight.

There’s things that have left me tired, tired beyond belief, beyond the battles and the grief. Beyond everything that has ever happened to me. 

I’m able to be happy. I’m able to smile. I’m able to be energized. It’s not impossible. It’s just not worth the time. I haven’t learned how to do it myself- because I depress myself. I need constant attention to be happy- not a minute alone. It’s a feat, though possible. Though I’ve only found a few people dedicated enough to try. 

Don’t get me wrong. I feel bad that that’s the way it has to be for my happiness to surface, I wish I could figure out how to save me from myself, but I can’t.

I’m in here somewhere. I’m in my head and I’m still trying to make my way through the maze of used, old needles. I’m stuck here for a little while. 

I need help. I do. I’m finding it slowly. I’ve gotten off track, like I always do. My mind wanders far too much.

I was asked how I’d describe myself- so have a large story, since I couldn’t answer verbally. 

I don’t know how to describe myself. I know how I am. But I don’t know myself well enough to tell anyone what I think my defining qualities are.

Perhaps I’m a writer- perhaps I’m an old soul. Perhaps I’m simply a stuck, growing, theatrical and dramatic child.

I definitely bring shock-value along with me. Nothing is ever boring here in my life- but there’s not too many rays of sunshine. There is more gloomy days than you would know. There’s more rain, and it’s hard to dance in it, when it all it brings is the feeling of tears everywhere.

I don’t like change. It’s hard to change my ways. I’m struggling right now- I’m trying to find my footing. It’s been rough. I’ve been slipping and slipping over just the past four days, losing everything I’ve had to hold onto, losing everyone I surrounded myself with- and trust me. It’s no exaggeration. They’re all gone. Every last one of them.

So now I’m slowly putting each finger back onto the ledge of the cliff, one by one. I feel like a leech. The only way I’m doing this is clinging to the new people, the people that are defining my life at this moment, and letting them breath into me. 

Like a breath slut. I want your breath. Give it to me. I want to feel alive again. 

Though I’ve never felt -as- alive as I have the past few days- power struggle and fighting for my sanity can bring a girl back, trust me. 

So. At the end of all this jabber, you’ve got the last bit of this little rant. 

My love isn’t given out too freely- I’m actually a very hateful, untrustworthy person with many reservations. But to the people that have me now, cradling me in their arms, I do love you. I love everything from your voices in my ears as I write, to your silence as I rant about the complexity of alternate reality theories. 

You, are the people I feel for. I’ve turned off feelings for everyone that has left me in the past few days. They don’t exist- aside from one. And that one knows who they are. I will always have a place in my heart open for her, and her only. But,  I can’t waste my hopeless romantic heart on them anymore. They hurt it. They hurt me, just as much as I hurt them.

Stay with me a little while. I’ll try to be as interesting as I can manage. 

I think the only reason this has been made into a thing is because I might as well not waste all of my time writing in journals that will go nowhere. Plus, the handwriting is completely illegible. Am I Tumblr famous yet?


For a while there, I actually felt better.


Not entirely sure.

Fuck Yes

I have figured a non drug-abusing, non-alcoholism, non-cutting way out of this. 

My brilliant head has saved me. 

I can fucking do this, okay?

I’ll be okay. I’ll breathe. I’ll survive. I’ll smile.

So when people leave, I’ve learned the secret: let them. Because, most of the time, they have to.

Let them walk away and go places. Let them have adventures in the wild without you. Let them travel the world and explore life beyond a horizon that you exist in. And know, deep down, that heroes aren’t qualified by their capacity to stay but by their decision to return.

The Staying Philosophy (Everyday Isa)