“How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?” ― Virginia Woolf

 

   I frustrate myself with my inability to hold a pencil sometimes. Sometimes I can draw until 2am but other days the at 9pm my hand goes out. I have no clue what is wrong with me, why can't my hands do what they're told? One day I'll find the issue, for now, I'll live with my hands that give out on me.

                Being the dumb blond is really something. Some may think it's easy but it is a skill, a skill that I have perfected. Acting stupid takes intelligence, especially intelligence involving psychology. My peers really believe that I'm the dumbest, most immature person alive! It's hilarious, the best part is seeing people get pissed at me for saying dumb shit. I would dare say that intelligence wise, I'm fairly intelligent. It's just fucking hilarious to act like a stupid bitch.

                                    I hate always being lovesick. I just                             want someone to love me for me, I                          want to have someone who sees me their one              and only, their angel. Hopefully one day soon.

"Recollection of two memories. You. Soap scent of drugstore shampoo, ashtray of stale cigarettes, burnt toast. Her. Perfume of cheap gasoline, coffee on the breath, too much sugar, cocoa butter skin. Where does she spend her summers? They say it's the smells you finally don't forget. The brain works that way."

 

(I forgot do draw a card oops)