Laughing while lying down
via whatshouldwecallme:
Normal people:
Me:
What’s beneath your skin? I never knew.
You were the easy way out. A simple place for my attention. But that shit got boring.
A surface is a finite space. My spotlight saw it all, and when there was nothing else to light up, I panned away.
To another stage, another surface. One whose splinters aren’t afraid to show. One whose cracks are rooted in its history of sharp tap shoes and fat dancers. Where my spotlight is useless.
Where I need a flashlight to climb deep. Where your basement runs damp. Where I take off my shirt and dry you up with my hairy chest. Where I become your second lead, dreading the nights your understudy takes the stage.
I’m a recovering assaholic too.
Wish you told me when you knew.
Love the smile but also the Lost decoration in the background :)
(Source: samanthadavey)
gillian jacobs by isa wipfli
(Source: casterly)
(Source: dustinehipke)
I’m scared
I’m graduating next Spring. Possible extra semester. I’ll be done with school in 2013.
Piss my pants in trepidation.
All these years, taken care of. No significant worries other than when I’ll have time to wash these jeans before the party tonight.
What the fuck are bills?
Time to struggle. It’s 10 pm and I want to sleep.
