It terrifies me how I could change my life at a moments notice. I could stop going to school, stop talking to people, shave my head, drive and never turn around. So many things that would leave me silent enough to hear a pin drop, and terrifying enough to leave me cringing. I could get perfect grades, try for once, start caring. I know positive changes are so rare that I instead choose to dwell on my past mistakes and a pessimist view point. The improbables’ can become possibles, and change can be for the better. But how much do I really want this? Why is it that I feel absolutely fine kindling the fires of self loathing? Why must I seek out boys who’s holds on me can send me sprawling. Boys who vent their anger with fists and lashes… and force. It’s all so breakable. Every single moment. Nothing-nothing is concrete. Everything can be changed, broken, destroyed in some way and I fear the day that I am discovered to be less than immortal. That pills indeed will kill me this time. That gun wounds are fatal. That buildings are too high, yet too low to fly off of. There’s a point in your life when you realize you are no longer flying. You are falling. What is the difference? Wind caught beneath your wings, tumbling in the air, ground closing in on you. And you have the rest of your god forsaken life to hit the ground.600Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqDJzWMuZrG
~change is a blunt object mauling you slowly to death.~
-hlc600Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8MS25MKssS
