I want to move to France.

I yearn to travel. I think I’m going to apply to as many scholarships as I can, and possibly get a job just so I could travel before I go off to college. I seem to have forgotten how it feels like to be enlightened because of all the stress that I seem to put on myself. School this, school that. I am a control freak. I freak out if I don’t know the outcome of my situation—I need everything within my grasp. 

But I need to see the world for its beauty. Not for what’s been putting me down in the past. So I want to travel the city of love. I want to meet new people. I want to be by myself when I visit the beauty in other states in the United States. I want to see. I want to feel. I want to love everything.

// How do you know it’s over?//

When you feel more in love with the memories than with the person standing in front of you.

I picked up a book the book from my bed at approximately 6 PM and began reading it on the way to Southland. Then I read. I kept reading, and reading, and reading. Six hours later, my eyes are still glued onto this novel. And I’m reading again. Sometimes I forget how much I love books until one acts like a magnet towards me. It’s been eight hours and I didn’t put down this book once. It’s now 2 AM and I’m forgetting that my AP English exam is on Friday…I was supposed to utilize this time to study. If only there was an exam for the person who could read the most in one sitting. I would win.

Calculus, you give me the high.

Pick me at the right spot,

One petal at a time.

Count one to five.

I’m on a roll.

Calculus, I’m beating the shit out of you.

Five.

I’M EXCITED FOR—nothing. I’m not excited. I have too many things going on in my life.

All haters’ gon’ hate. I have no time to worry about that.

But what I do need to worry about is how I’ve treated myself for the past few weeks. I need to rewire my brain and learn how to be the person I was before I put all this unnecessary pressure on myself. 

Self love above all else.

countingtoabillionslow:

Is anyone else completely terrified by the concept that you could, someday, meet someone who actually genuinely wants to spend the rest of their life in love with you?