it's a heart attack that you feel.

here i sit.

depressed after drinking.

was going to go out tonight, but i think i won't. i might just eat and play guitar and watch a movie.

didn't even mean to get trashed last night. it just happened, but then i came home and collapsed into your arms and you didn't take advantage of me and it was awesome.

but i'm left with something. i'm left with wondering.

i'm left with this decision i've made to buy this plane ticket to prague.

and i just want to be good at something, at anything, and i want to be able to make music but i'm not sure i can.

it takes so much practice, so much dedication.










i'm sick of not giving it my all. i'm sick of not knowing i deserve more.





i'm sick of this pseudo eating disorder where i panic about my weight and stomach all the time.

am i getting old? will i be alone forever?

sleeping with a man, holding on.

wishing as always


it was more.