life is too short not to be happy

jonathan swift said, "may you live all the days of your life!" that is such a beautiful thought.

i read back all these foolish words i've written by the side of the street, lost in the grass, gravel, coffee shops, industrial cities, the streets of outter melbs, supermarkets, roofs, pouring with what i want to be; restlessness, desire, hopes, joys, sadness, depression. and i adore it all, no matter how foolish i may have been, how lost in ideals and surrounded with lonesome rats, sweating ghosts out of the pores of my skin. singing a song just for me. and i hope it'll never cease.

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my greatest fear is that i will never be free

this journal is brashly, unapologetically, wholly about me. my prurient nature, my wayward thoughts, my restless and blurry and delicious and uncertain hours. with as much soul and candidness as i can muster. i've created few of these since age fourteen, and with each one, the self-censorship diminishes a bit more.

i feel as if i am brimming, always producing and hoarding more love inside me. professionally, there is no release. giggles, ivory elephants, rainbows, feathers, bohemian, glitter, melodrama, fingers entwined... none of it moves me like i know it should. i will search this world honestly, searching for something deserving of the volumes of love i know i have within me. i promise to find something i love doing.

my writing about writing is half cracking up at myself for being a twenty-one year old girl who can't seem to think about much else. in the midst of my vices and plans and doubts and routines, somehow there is always this.

3 words

here i am, trying to be ethical. but you probably don't even realise it. goodness me.

here is my confession. i want very badly for someone new to come into my life and take me by surprise. so here's to that future someone who wants the same things i do.

no fucking deal

ever.