I've never felt so alone before
A room full of friends but strangers

Breathe in it'll all be fine

The breath burns like a menthol hitting my chest

That little glimpse of hope that just kinda gets pulverised by reality

Okay

I guess the path I chose is more likely to be mocked due to the stereotypes that are connected with it. Art School/Design School

But I'm okay with that because yeah I might look like I'm  trying to be "unique"  and "original"around you , when actually a lot of the time I'm trying to fit in, but to be quite frank, I just wasn't  meant to.

Where I am now is home of the unimaginable  and I finally feel I am where I belong. I fit in for once ( well it's actually as close as I'm going to get to fitting in within a social mass of  people)

Because I didn't make the same choice as the majority  of my  friends which would've landed me at the same Univeristy as them ,in a degree that would take one year less to complete, and probably leave me feeling a lot more intellectual , I still stand by my decision.

Because I made that decision for myself.

If this wasn't worth it for me I wouldn't do it

Yes it ***** being isolated a lot of the time This has only  shown me that friendship is a two way street, It's taught me that the people that are meant to be in your life will most definitely stay in it

It ***** that every six. Weeks we're thrown into a new mix but I guess you could say I'm  becoming prone to adjustment .You could say I'm almost used to having to constantly change , this didn't come easy for me because personally I  am not a fan of change in general

And all of this is mind ***** but a small insight on my  life currently

But It's okay
It's going to be okay
And I'm okay

College is a cancer clinic.
At this university, you either live long enough to die,
or die until you want to live.
Kids drag backpacks like bags of morphine,
and are attached to their planners like they are their heart monitors.
You do your own chemotherapy,
as you poison yourself with debt,
and Friday night nickel shots.

She said people were seasons,
and when I first met her, I couldn't agree more.  
After getting to know her, I wished that I didn't.
Her ex-lovers were Winter, and her eyes were a shade of Spring.
I could see the vulnerability of a car crash
swimming in each fountain trapped behind her emeralds.
She was beautiful in the way that could cause suicides,
and fix spider-webbed windshields after each collision of,
“Are you okay,” and, “I’m fine; I promise.”

Every story was Winter, and she was always left alone in the snow.
Mauve lips mouthed words that silently whispered,
"When is this too much? When are you going to leave?"

People are patterns,
and all she knew was the tessellation of temporary love and permanent loss.
Her hands trembled as she looked down.
She was in transit; moving after each hope of home fell apart.
And I wanted to kiss her like the world was falling apart.

I think I'm always going to be that broken thing that no one can ever be bothered fixing

I'll eventually just gets thrown away

If I can't fix myslef  

,who else is going to even try ?