C: How about, “Eat a fucking burger?”
Me: Yeah, I think we’re all tapped out of good ideas.
(Keep in mind at this point we’d written 100+ headlines)
"Imagine what I’m going to do to you after 3 months…"
Damn you. Now, I feel compelled to fly down for your birthday, more than ever.
Sex or any sort of sexual contact for 3 weeks.
After constantly hooking up with my ex for a year and a half, this is one of the longest dry spells I’ve had.
Sometimes I’m a monster. Not all people are bad. I want to make you happy. I want to make you feel alive. It all started with a big big bang. The reason I’m alive. Everyone is a stranger. What makes you worth that next breath? What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail? Our hopes and expectations. Black holes and revaluations. Being aware of being. You should know I’m a little fucked up, but I don’t want you to know that. Like a moth to a flame, into the fire you go. I hope I can make it worth your while.
Songs that I currently don’t understand why I like and hate at the same time:
- Rude by Magic
- Fancy by Iggy Azalea
I went to Wrigleyville and met this really accomplished, well spoken, and attractive 22 year old who thinks I’m adorable. He trades stocks for a living, 6ft, Russian, with lovely eyes, and I’m quite taken by him.
Here’s to hoping he will call/ text me to hang out again and is opened to maybe making out?
tomorrow it’ll be a week since I moved to Chicago.
Although it didn’t take me long to fall in love with the city, it is hella expensive to live here.
Granted this may be because I’ve had to buy a bunch of essentials for my apt, but that doesn’t make it any less stressful to try and budget when none of my job prospects (including an company job transfer) have yet to call me.
The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can’t achieve it.