Contemplating
I don’t know. I’m probably dumb and selfish. Maybe everyone else just sucks. I might not belong here. I might just go. Can’t do more disappointment. Future doesn’t look good enough to put up with shit. Get me to the golden gate
this is the shoulder that caught the tears of a girl today. i’d never wish for her to be upset, but i found a hint of comfort in collecting her fragments as she fell apart. i can’t fix very many problems and i can’t change pasts. i can’t promise i’ll make anyone feel better. but i will be there. when your worries weigh you down, i will gladly hold them for you. when words aren’t enough, use my body as human tissue. i won’t mind if you get snot on me. when nothing can be fixed with pretty words and warm embraces, i will sit by you in broken glass, and in silence i’ll be sending love your way.
so little i knew so little i know
Everyone has secrets. Maybe they aren’t scandalous, maybe they aren’t recognized. Everyone has thoughts that seem to stupid to ever say out loud. There are hopes in every head too hopelessly out of reach to dwell on. There are motives, hidden meanings tucked under synaptic gaps too embarrassing to come out. Those are the real secrets. I don’t care if you’re mom killed someone or you let a kid see your boobs for 5 dollars in 4th grade. I want to know what you want to forget. Secrets you hide from yourself. The things you’ll never tell me.
(via halfyheartthrob)
i will kiss whoever buys me a pack of cigarettes right on the lips.
I know a kid and i call him the boy. The boy tried to make my transition to sober living more fun by blessing me with this elegant cigarette holder. Because let’s be real, nothing is more depressing than forced sobriety and trouble. But let’s be real, the true glam and impracticality of this tobacco tool could cheer up anybody.
i know a girl who steals from me. i let her into the world i’ve been building and she took what she liked and ran with it. maybe it’s a sign i should stop shoplifting.
people will steal.
so one time i got suspended (what a bad ass, right?) and i took a lot of walks. this is the saddest cereal i ever did see. i wanted to take it in and mother it, but i was in no place to provide for a child at that time in my life.
hey. ok. this is maggie. not a single person calls me M. except myself. as long as i don’t get hella fat or something i think i can pull of smoking without being icky.
this is a list of things that i am practically synonymous with:
- slurpees
- kreayshawn
- taco time
- walmart
- james st. james
- paulie bleaker
- ket
- damien (mean girls)
- all the gay men. really.
- cereal
- scorpio (Oct. 30, bitch)
Alright, you crazy muthafucks. This is about to get regular…like your menstrual cycle…and your boyfriend’s bowel movements… Just saying. But for real. Over the last, like, 6 months I’ve found I’ve gathered a collection of photos taken from smoke breaks. I mean, nothing’s more relaxing than kicking back with a cigarette and a cell phone with a front facing camera. like, can i get an amen
I’ve decided to make use of those photos in form of blog. so welcome, bitchez. here come a bunch of selfies and sidewalks next to captions about my life.
no rude comments heeeeeyyyyyyyy
(via ketaminecandy)
