i know i know i know
i haven't written in over a month.
it's been for good reasons, i promise. i've been making that cash money yo.
(i keep second-guessing if that was too ghetto for me to say, but it doesn't matter)
tonight i feel like that little sick child colin in the secret garden.
granted, i don't have to take ice baths or live in a huge mansion with a mean old biddy, but i am still cooped up under my down blanket drinking cranberry juice. i don't know what's wrong with me honestly.
i've been feeling quite. dull. spacey. wandering. lately.
every time i go out of my house i want to yell at the top of my lungs and just YELL/SHOUT/SCREAM.
maybe i'm outgrowing my comfort zone, but i'm clinging to all the things that i think will keep me safe because i'm afraid of jumping out and getting hurt. by life. by actually COMMITTING to something. by love?
i'm quite a cynic about love. oh boy oh boy, change is a'coming.
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