Get me away from here I’m dying

No, really. I need to get on a plane. And fly the fuck away from here. Now. This place is bad for my mental health.

My room smells of vanilla and it’s loooveelllyyyyy and calming.

120 film is new and strange to me.

Listening to: Rilo Kiley – A Better Son/Daughter

Sometimes in the morning I am petrified and can’t move
Awake but cannot open my eyes
And the weight is crushing down on my lungs
I know I can’t breathe
And I hope someone will help me this time
And your mother’s still calling you insane
And I swear that it’s different this time
And you tell her you give in to the demons that possess her and that god never
blessed her insides
Then you hang up the phone and feel badly for upsetting things
Crawl back into bed to dream of a time when your heart was open wide
And you loved things just because
Like the sick and the dying
And sometimes when you’re on
You’re really fucking on
And your friends they sing along
And they love you
But the lows are so extreme
That the good seems fucking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence
But you’ll fight and you’ll make it through
You’ll fake it if you have to
And you’ll show up for work with a smile
And you’ll be better
And you’ll be smarter
And more grown up and a better daughter or son
And a real good friend
And you’ll be awake
You’ll be alert
You’ll be positive though it hurts
And you’ll laugh and embrace all your friends
And you’ll be a real good listener
You’ll be honest
You’ll be brave
You’ll be handsome and you’ll be beautiful
You’ll be happy

Your ship may be coming in
You’re weak but not giving in
To the cries and the wails of the valley below
And your ship may be coming in
You’re weak but not giving in
And you’ll fight it
You’ll go out fighting all of them…