stuff i've been thinking abt lately (it's old)

Reasons to be alive, part 5

1. steve buscemi

2. steve buscemi jokes

3. the sea (that is good for other things than drowning)

4. your family

5. ??

6. ??????

And then you yell "I wish I wasn't born!" and she says "Yeah, that would have been better." And all you have is an empty gab between your heart and ribs and you can't find the air from your lungs to scream. You mentally cross over the few things off your lists.

"I didn't mean it," She then says, weakly, through the bathroom door and you muffle your sobs to your sleeve. So that must be the truth then. You leave the bathroom with a face made of white marble and again for two days you pretend that she loves you. 

If she carried you in her womb for more than 9 months she must know that you are not a monster, she must know that the creature she gave birth to is made of moss and earth and flowers that bloom only after midnight. 

I know i'm not really fixing it when i'm escaping it

but the only way to fix this would be sleeping next to someone

and breathing in what the other breathes out

How is it possible to tell my friends that i'm mentally unstable and had a rough night and need some cuddles and don't want to be playfully bullied tomorrow bc it will end in tears and screaming? Also how do i explain them all the different ways i feel like shit and what subjects i wish they avoided. i will start to wear shirts that have trigger warnings written on them: "don't talk to me about eating disorders, bikinis or working out"

I've got these stupidly unrealistic ideas of what I am and what I want to (and will) be when I grow up: 

1. a sailor. Preferably from Åland. I'd speak good swedish and bad finnish and fish with an old boat that coughed every time I turned it on. My face and hands would be beaten by weather. This is impossible because I am not from Åland. 

2. a gardener. I'd grow the most beautiful roses and other flowers. I'd have this ridiculously large herb garden from which I'd dry the herbs to my own use and for others. This is impossible because where would i get the money and space for my garden. 

3. a sailor's wife. Oh this one is a bit stupid - i'd be a wife from early 18th century or late 17th century.  I'd be the kind of girl who didn't care of the hems of her dress getting dirty or lifting up to everyone to see her ankles. And i'd love my husband more than anything. 

4. an artist or a writer who lives in a penthouse in paris. A penthouse in an old building that has thin windows and nice lighting. I'd eat white bread and crepes and giggle with a bottle of red wine.

5. a farmer who grows her own food almost completely and survives on selling eggs and potatoes to the farmer's market time to time. I'd make good jam and sell it too.