When I start putting of what I need to be writing I start sounding a lot like Dr.Seuss…
I’m writing a book: taking it slow. Posting this just for the hell of the notes.
I’ll start in the kitchen, making a snack. Just wonder if I will ever go back.
To the chair I go, in front of the tv. When I resurface now - it is past three.
My favorite book next. All in one sitting. Clock strikes ten and time is flitting.
I open my laptop to find I have mail. Wrong kind of writing. I am a snail.
I find myself dreaming of a shower. Shame it is, I’ve lost half an hour.
You were probably hoping I had advice. But I am just an unpublished writer.
Marrying young is not the end of my freedom. It means I want to travel and see the world, but with her by my side. It means I still like drinking in bars and dancing in clubs, but stumbling home with her at 2am and eating pizza in our underwear. It means I know that I want to kiss those lips every morning, and every night before bed. If you see marriage as the end of your ‘freedom’, you’re doing it wrong.
don’t date anyone who doesn’t want to hear your favorite song, watch your favorite movie, read your favorite book
I turned my old photo blog into a poetry blog. (Be forewarned, I probably wont be posting alot on that blog)
I’ll still be posting everything on my personal first, then reblogging it to that one.
My parents aren’t home
You know what that means
*sits in the living room instead of sealing myself away in my room*