well, damn.

I waste my time in the caverns of my brain; searching for the correct words to write down from my pen to the paper. I write because if I do not, the destruction from that war would not be something that I could bear with. I write because it frees me from the voice in my head that will not be still.

I analyze people in my free time, and organize my thoughts and my things. I obsess over the people that inspire me; and I am inspired by my obsessions. My feelings towards people work like the justice system in America: You are innocent until proven otherwise. But, sometimes, like America, I will pass the wrong judgement, only making me more human than I already am.

Forgive me, for I am in love.

My face.

I was born this way
& I keep it ugly.