I’ve unlocked this new reality of gradually doing things that fulfill my soul. Not things and people can. There’s comfort in just being alone with my thoughts. My emotions—in ways that I want to be greedy and selfish with.
I find peace in knowing that I can't hurt anybody because I’m too busy and focused on myself. My future. There’s something missing from the world that I can’t seem to find. May it be another soul other than my own.
I just want someone to make me feel alive and happy the way whiskey does when it French kisses my lips. And down my throat and into my organs. Well just even happier because I am happy and very much content with what I have and who I am as an individual.
I want something; I want a bond so real. That even on our worse days, even when I’m mad at you type shit, you come running to me. And I’m your first ride. How impeccable. It disgusts me the way I view people now. I’m not someone who hold grudges but I don’t even know what love is meant for in others. I think I say things to make myself and others feel something at times.
But I don’t confuse myself or confide my availability to an escape of someone else’s trust. Or their imagination of me. What people view me as, has nothing to do with me. I just want someone to lather me up with love and just give me what else that can just extend my own pathway of life.
Good morning, World. 💙