the fact that i said i would study if taylor noticed me DAMN IT
WHY DID I SAY THAT
the irony right now
IS THIS A GAME SWIFT? ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME STUDY?
Dancing to Out Of The Woods like:
This is the correct choreography for Out Of The Woods.
BY HOW DIFFERENT THAT WAS FROM ANYTHING TAYLOR HAS EVER DONE
BUT IT WAS QUINTESSENTIALLY TAYLOR SWIFT SONG
AND IDK HOW SHE DOES THAT???
LIKE THE SOUND WAS OUT OF THIS WORLD AND PERFECT AND DIFFERENT TO ANYTHING I’VE EVER HEARD FROM HER OR ANYONE EVER
BUT SHE STILL WRITES LYRICS THE SAME PERFECT AMAZING HONEST WAY SHE DID WHEN SHE WAS 16
I NEED TO BREATHE I THINK I PUNCTURED A LUNG
that’s the way it was, you know? we’d lie in bed and stare at the ceiling and say, “if i go in tomorrow i will kill myself” and mean it all the way and then when the morning came, we’d get out of bed and sling backpacks over our shoulders. maybe that’s the reason everyone thought we were faking it: because we were so damn awful at going through with it.
god, how many of my friends ended up underground. humans remember pain in odd ways. i know when you died i clutched my chest and howled for hours. it still hurts, but not as bad as it used to. i always think, “alright, i’ve lived through this enough times that i’ll be alright the next time,” but i don’t think we ever really learn how to be alright at all.
and you hurt and you wake up and you remember the pain from last night in an odd way and you say to yourself, well, okay, i can handle today, it’s a wound but it’s healing. and then at night you say, no more of this ever again. and the cycle starts over again.
god, but did i live for the weekends. what a waste of life that is: hating five out of seven days. what were they even supposed to be teaching us, because all i learned is that you can be bone-crushingly tired and so sad that the smallest things make you cry and you will still be able to put both feet on the floor the next day. i guess it taught me i could survive anything, but it wasn’t a lesson i think they kept in the curriculum. were we supposed to be so young and already know so much about sorrow?
god, these quiet mornings. i hate remembering. i hate being.
i used to think
if only you could put pizza on pizza and believe there was no way it could be done
but now, i have seen the light