i can’t take it. it’s not natural. to give it or receive it. Its driving me crazy and i’d like to put an end to it. why is it so hard for being to be alone? that’s how we all end up anyways. start early. get used to it. go feel something.
A Peacock and Doves in a Garden (1888) by Eugene Bidau
After 24 years of life you would think that maybe I’d be better at being me. Maybe i knew what i was doing but something tells me I didnt. I’m not sure why i go back and forth with the idea of love. Here I am, happy. Here I am, ruining it, for what? The same thing i do every time. Why? Because i’m crazy.
Frances Bean Cobain