The air in my home
is heavy with my mom's unhappiness. And her exhaustion.
And her sheer dissatisfaction with her life.
And I hate it.
I can be locked up in my room when she's in the kitchen and I feel her despair seeping up through the doors and walls.

As she said to me,
"Have you ever felt suffocated by your own life?
Like life has trapped you in a corner and ******* whatever is left of you?"

No amount of strength that I contain can somehow give her a miniature motive to get back up.

God, this is awful.

I always loved the idea of a muse by my side, gifting me with inspiration. Maybe it made me feel less alone. Maybe that is why I feel so lonely and empty when I can't write.
Psychology tells me that authors and artists are commonly more unhappy than those whose jobs rely on logical black and white thinking.
But would we have it any other way?
What beauty is there in a world made of only black and white?
Where would we be without our words and pictures and our inspired sessions at four am when the thunder brings to mind an image that you mustn't forget?
The scrawled poems on napkins and foggy bathroom mirrors and the doodles of nightmares in the margins of my calculus notes,
I would be lost without it. I am lost without it.
So if a muse is what I'm lacking, please come back, muse.

there will be a time when your story will end
but for now you can just turn the pages forward
looking for the better more beautiful chapters in your life
making some good old memories you will never forget

there will be time when you will fall in love
maybe with your bestfriend or maybe with a stranger
you are young and gorgeous, a little bit to innocent they say
so please my love don't let them take adventage of your broken heart

and one day you will find your own way to happiness

loving this girl was so magical and strange
she has these blue eyes that make me go crazy, all the time
she has this smile on her face when she looks at me, it makes me melt

Im searching for more words to describe how I feel but I simply can't
and maybe that's what being in love needs to feel like, rare, special
the fact something is so complicated and mysterious
that you just can't find the right words..

I'm trying so hard to
keep my head above water.
Everything is closing in
and the darkness is settling.
The very process of drowning
makes it harder and harder
not to drown.
He wrapped his hand
around my ankle
and told me that he would
never go down alone.