A great fire burns within me, but no one stops to warm themselves at it, and passers-by only see a wisp of smoke.
I think about dying but I dont want to die. Not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic. There’s so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. I’m still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can’t quite figure out what the hell I’m doing or how to get out of it.
Stopped in Chicago and did the things.
I don’t trust people who trust cops.
There’s an adorable snake curled up in my boobs and I’m finally getting my hair cut and driving out to burning man in a week so I’d say things r p good idk
i just said hi to someone and they didn’t hear me i’m never trying that again