dude gel pens were my religion in the sixth grade
It comes to the point where sadness cycles like seasons, and there is no difference between a harsh November breeze and a teasing May. It comes to the point where you can no longer tell loneliness and solitude apart from one another, and they blend like blood and skin and paint and water. And you find yourself living days outside of your body; making movements without intentions and hearing laughter that may or may not be your own. You think about the way that sadness is like nicotine – how pretty and alluring it has grown, how grey and destructive it has turned your insides.
It comes to the point where your life is a routine of denying sadness its entrance and welcoming it inside like a long lost friend. It comes to the point where sadness asks if it can make its home, and you are lonely, and yet you are also very much alive.
*bangs fist on table* I WANT COLD WEATHER
The cast of The Craft (1996)
- teacher: what do you think is the most under appreciated art form?
- me: winged eyeliner
Fun Fact: The average person would walk past a murderer about 36 times in their lifetime.
that’s not a fun fact
Who is ready for chilly nights, pumpkin spiced lattes, hoodie & jeans, bonfires, crisp air, cider mills, hayrides, haunted houses, 13 nights of Halloween, apple cider, fall candles, changing leaves, carving pumpkins, and walks in the woods. I know I sure am!