i vow only to post depressing pictures. should i die before the sun rises, i hope someone will read my blog. i hope someone will read painful thoughts so they won't be so lonely all by themselves. and they can't be painful.
i am seventeen.

you write poetry.

the poetry is imperceptive but you look profound when you are bent over writing.

everyone likes you because you don't interrupt them.
your clothes are cool. i think you wear dirty clothes.

you love my smell. but you can not fuck up. too perfect. please dont fuck up because i am not sure i would trust you if you did.
i am none of these things. i fuck up. i may die in my sleep, but that usually doesnt hurt.
i should be calm. i am going to sleep now.