Chronophobia

Whenever I go up the basement stairs, I run because someone scary is chasing me.

I'm scared of that time it takes for me to run up, because those 4 seconds are lots longer than its seems.

Add all of the times I ran up from the basement, that's close to a month of being chased by a mad man.

Chronophobia is the fear of time. In this case, I'm scared of it.

The Perfect Rock

If only when skipping rocks, they came back like a boomerang, because the perfect rock only skipped 7 times for me.

But then you would need the perfect water to skip it in.

But everything can't go your way, because if it did that's that only rock my hands would touch.

That rock would be my Golden Snitch, the only person to touch it would be me.

But it isn't that way.

Instead I have to find ones that are okay, and lose them seconds later.

I want to stop divorcing rocks.

I want the world to stop divorcing rocks.

Why can't we just find the perfect one and stay with it?

I want a boomerang rock.

Surrounded

I'm terribly weary
Of new faces,
I can feel the concrete rising up through my chest, piling at my lips, I'm turning to stone
Solid as granite, this is more than just a wall,
More than just
A statue, my
Organs go too.


#findthedeepermeaning

Mountains

Most would prefer the sun and getting that nice tan over the cool breeze and the mud.

Most for a vacation like to relax and get that nice tan instead of wandering around some trees and rocks.

But not me. 

The mountains are a sacred place to me. 

A place of solitude, where I can think without my mom yelling at me to do the dishes. 

A place where I can think

(True fact: I've wriiten all of my stuff somewhere in the mountains, excluding my intro)

The mountains are my paris. There is a particular place I like the best, but it's in Alaska so I can't go as much as possible.

I see the mountains as a artist. I don't take pictures. If I did, that's all my instagram would have in it. 

But I haven't posted a single picture of me in the mountains. And i'm going to post a picture a place i went on friday.

So if you follow me, you will know who I am. If you don't, tough luck.

Puppy love

Love in high school isn't really love.

We think we know what love is.

My parents are in love. They've been that way for 25 years.

High school relationships don't last that long. 

Love in high school is like baby teeth. We think that we need them, but after a bit we learn that we are better without it. 

Puppy love.

Simple.

Stupid.

And short.