#451.
I sit down wanting to do one of those optimistic posts I don't seem to be doing too often anymore. I hope this is just a phase and it will all be over soon and I won't feel like sleeping for an eternity for too long. Or maybe it's just stress. Yeah, that's right. I'll pin everything down on stress, because none of this is me, none of this is my concious self wanting to start something because maybe for a moment I was happy.

I'm scared, you know that? I'm so scared of life, and the future and just all of it. I'm afraid that one day I'm going to have to experience a sense of loss that I've thankfully never been made to feel before, and I won't be able to deal with it. I'm scared of failing, of being a failure. I'm scared that you'll still dictate me after I'm supposedly free of your binding rules and discerning lectures. Maybe I'm just scared I won't be free enough. Or that I'll be so free I'll fuck everything up for myself.

Oh I don't know. All I know is right now I'm pretty fucking sleepy and I'd give a lot for your arms to be my safe haven. Good night.


Has little to do with anything, but it's pretty, I guess.

Labels: Another cloud-ey image.

Hello, this is Tien. This blog is the remains of the unconventional cliches and angsty phrases of my teenage years. (Plus a new one every now and then)
I ♥ Phoenix, (500) days of summer, double entendres, unmade beds, autumn, Chopin, syncopated melodies, G7 chords and things that make me feel.

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