I cannot find my place in this world. I don’t know where I belong, or if I belong anywhere. I carry that thought with me everywhere I go, because it never leaves me.

I’m ready for my next life. If you believe in that kind of thing. I don’t, but it’s a lot more comforting than the idea of simply ceasing to exist.

I’d like to believe that when we die, when we close our eyes close for the last time, the light people always talk about is the headlights of the train.

Maybe that moment our soul leaves our body, we teleport to the train station, where we await the train that will deliver us to our next life.

Whoever I am in my next life, I hope she has a place.

I am a hoarder of tiny, important things.

I’ve got a makeup bag that I’ve had since 6th grade. It contains several tiny pieces of my life over the years. Some of these things are silly, some are more interesting. I’ve got notes from boys confessing their undying love and lust, I’ve got a pencil sharpener I uses in middle school. I’ve got an empty self-sharpening eye pencil from 7th grade, I’ve got a deep purple stone heart my Gothic 8th grade boyfriend gave me in 8th grade. He claimed to have the other, but really gave it to the girl he was cheating on me with. Funny enough, her and I later met up with both hearts and had a good laugh.

I’ve got the complete 5th season of Gilmore Girls on DVD in there from when I was 12. It was my favorite show.

I’ve got a tiny rhino that belonged to my best friend in 6th grade. Savannas has since moved away and we haven’t spoken in years. I remember her like 6th grade was yesterday.

I’ve got one of those owl notes Jeremiah used to post all over the house when he went to work for the day. It says “I love you.”

I’ve got several notes from Kyle.

Numerous Ohio ID cards, as I kept losing them. Funny thing is, I’d always find the lost one after replacing it. Only one of them has a decent picture. My mother wants one for her wallet.

I’ve got the remote to the Dodge Ram truck we had when I was 7. The unlock button is slightly faded, but it’s in great condition otherwise.

A wooden box with a golden pattern painted on the top. Delaney and I used to use this as our marijuana box in high school. I’d fill it up and give it to her in the morning and we’d go smoke together that evening and I’d spend the night at her place. She’s now a meth junkie and hasn’t made time for me once in the year I’ve been back home. I’ve given up on her and removed her from my life. I miss her sometimes. The old her, I mean. I don’t even know who she is anymore.

Memory cards from my Ps2. Mostly packed full with Final Fantasy X and Fatal Frame saves.

The shell from a hermit crab I had in 2nd grade. His name was Kut, and it crushed me something terrible when he passed on.

A purple paper origami Swan I received in the mail from a boy I met on here. His name is Tyler. We don’t speak anymore, but I’ll always keep it. I also have the platinum chip from the special edition of Fallout: New Vegas. He sent that with the Swan.

Many other small, seemingly unimportant items.

Sometimes when I’m feeling particularly sad or out of touch with myself, I’ll go through this bag and reminisce on the life I’ve lived so far.


I’m lonely.

I wish I didn’t have so many anxieties about the world. I wish I could just go our to parties or out to social events without worrying about talking to strangers.

It’s not like I enjoy not having many friends. I just don’t know how else to be.

Sometimes I feel like my loner tendencies will make for great regrets when I’m older.

I just want to have a pack. A group of friends I can hang with. People to get drunk with. People to go see movies I’m excited about with.

Kyle isn’t interested in the movies I like. He and I are so different, it’s hard to put my finger on what exactly it is that sets us apart so extremely.

Whenever we are together in person, everything is absolutely wonderful and as it should be. When we aren’t hanging out and are apart for a few days, I can’t help feeling like I have to really struggle to get any of his attention.

I mean, usually you speak to the person you love throughout the day. At least that’s what’s I’ve always known. But there are days when I can’t get more than a few words out of him. On those days, I just can’t help but feel that he isn’t the slightest bit interested in talking to me.

It’s kind of a shitty feeling, wanting to talk to someone more than they want to talk to you. Especially when you’ve been seeing them for a year.

I love him, I just want to feel like we’re both putting forth an equal amount of effort into this relationship.

I’m just sad right now. I haven’t felt this lonely in quite some time.

I wish Johnny was in Georgia. I’d ask him to come over. He returns in a month or so. He’s known me since I was in middle school. It’s nice to know and be close with someone who has seen me turn into an adult.

Makes me feel a little less lost. Makes me remember myself a little more. Sometimes I get so out of touch with who I am from this facade I’m consistently keeping up in order to avoid going crazy. I forget myself, and it’s just nice to know that someone cares.

Genuinely cares. Not cares-because-theyll-get-something-out-of-it.

I remember when my online friends made me feel just as good as my real life friends. I remember how amazing it felt. Now, I can’t help but feel like nobody really cares anymore.

And with that, I’m off to bed.

Asked by Anonymous Anonymous

your husband seems like a dick kill him. also does ghosts still exist?



he is a dick and killing him is on my list, but he’s attractive so i’m going to get one more kid out of him

i’m not sure on the ghost front, i guess we’ll find out after i kill my husband and put his gravestone in my backyard 


Anyone wanna list all the roles ever that represent poc as white people 

Can’t handle it when it’s the other way around, though


Anyone wanna list all the roles ever that represent poc as white people

Can’t handle it when it’s the other way around, though


If anyone wants to follow me on Instagram, I post there a lot. :)


Eyebrow game= dire

Here is an update on my life.. for those that read it.


The cat is out of the bag.

I’m pregnant. I’m due April, 17th and I am so terrified!

My mood swings and sicknesses have me in a daze lately and it’s hard to work, wake up happy and function normally. It’s taking my fiance’ a while to understand it and that’s really frustrating, because I…