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Lafayette, Louisiana
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and just not giving a fuck.


i just returned from a very relaxing trip to the beach.  i believe that i held my silence much more than i used my speech. to hear the waves and watch the reflections on the silky, smooth surface of the water has churned the most contemplative wheels in my mind. i had many sad thoughts come quickly to my brain so i was forced to type into my notepad on my phone before anything vanished.


i exchanged the last bit of belongings with my ex today. it was a bittersweet moment. a cry that was stifled (and still continues to bounce up and down in my throat even to this exact moment). the strangest thing is that after replaying everything that happened, the relationship ended the same way it began. 

the only difference was that the hugs didn't mean the same.

the most peculiar things happen in life.
time to begin the recuperation process.



God save McQueen.

i think i've been cursed.

after all of the people that have left my life, you would think i would be numb to it by now. it's quite the opposite.  it has battered and bruised me. it has created a complex...made me a dweller on the past. on the memories.

how can i fix this?

how do i keep my last flame alive? is it normal to feel this way? is it love or is it psychotic? will it pass or is it meant to be? how do i make myself wake up everyday and force myself to stop wallowing in my own sorrow?



My favorite quote right now:

"My heart is a thousand years old.
I am not like other people."


If only I could go back to late-January

when I was on the edge of decision making.  Clearly I would be in Dallas by now.  The situation of being torn between two boys and not wanting to leave because of anxiety should not have even come up.  Had it been the old me, I wouldn't have given two fucks about anyone else but myself.

But there's a lesson in everything.  Maybe I needed to start thinking about others.

Nahhh.  Fuck that.