read my journal entries.
journal sixty-two.
I love poetry but I am not so great at sharing my words— dishing out compliments does not come so easily to me I think it’s because of the obviousness how it’s so easy to see how much adoration I have for you that speaking such simple words are lousy but how silly is that…
journal sixty-one.
lovers to strangers strangers to lovers we long for one and feel like death in the other but for the chance for it won’t we cry ourselves to sleep? wake up in bed, still dark and, yet, hope to dream remember the joy that love could be? won’t we? won’t we pick up those glasses,…
journal fifty-nine.
the city of lights — if you don’t watch out it might just swallow you whole but then again maybe it will anyways the city of lights — remember how lonely it felt? as people passsed you by but how beautiful to watch them speed through their lives how do I become one of them?…
journal fifty-seven.
I almost died today, and I mean that in the most literal sense. Driving along the street, green light, a car turned wrong, I tensed “Babe-“, the word barely left my mouth before a loud bang occurred And there was smoke and airbags and questioning of what I had heard And thoughts of “oh shit”…
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wash, rinse, repeat.
They say love blinds you, but if you asked me, I’d tell you they all lied. Desire blinds you. Desperation blinds you. Fear blinds you. Love is just what we nickname it. We aren’t made to handle ugly truths. I did everything that they say one does after heartbreak. I cried. I screamed. I cursed…
drugs ruled everything around me.
The sun had long since set as I pulled up to my driveway, to a building that nursed my childhood but now contained a better part of vacancy, most rooms not having had seen life for months on end. Over the past couple years, days had become a routine from my bedroom to the kitchen…
university of texas at zoom.
Who knew six months ago that we would be in the situation we are in now. I think back to then and my memory seriously eludes me, but here we are: unprecedented, yes, but something new. This year of college may not be the year we all were hoping it would be, but I am…
lucky number thirteen.
And like counting three… two… one, a snap of the fingers, a blink of the eye (aka, a wink, ah hah hah), my first year of college is done! I never knew that a year could pass by so fast, and an academic year nonetheless. I don’t know who coined the number thirteen as unlucky,…
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brittany given. 