Different

I have painted my nails six times in my life. That I remember, at least... the last time was two days ago.

[Black. Why not?
My mom did, of course, call me a devil worshiper.
She was kidding.
But seriously.
Thanks, Mutti.]

The time before that was in ninth grade.
Oh, wait.
Tenth grade.

[Purple. With a hint of sparkle.]

Oh, ps: I really wish I was ambidextrous, let me tell you...

Anyway, I couldn't really tell you what happened. I just felt this great desire to paint my nails. So I did. I had to actually go out and buy nail polish. No big deal. But still. It was just... weird. I think, however, it was because I simply wanted something different. A change. Subtle. But desperately needed. Besides, I knew that if I didn't like it or want it anymore, I could just take it off. Easy.

I like that.

Retouch.
Redo.
Get rid of.
Change.

No consequences.
No regrets.
No tears.

Simple.

Wings

I am so ready to get out of here.

What a ridiculous summer.
You know how it's said that between the time you start high school and graduate college, you should have at least one AWESOME summer? Yeah. I've never had that. Boohiss. Whatever. I'm over it. I just have no one to talk to, so I'm letting it all out here. Is that sad, or what? I wasn't going to blog over the summer, but I couldn't help myself. Pathetic.

Three cheers for pity parties!

I just want to complain.
And yell.
And argue.
And tell people off.
But I can't.
And I hate that.

Can you say "heart issue"?

I wish I could fly.

"I smell like FREEDOM."

Only one person will "get" my title for this post.

I like that.


......


Our minds are incredible.
Hey God... thank You.


......


Innocent.
Gentle.
[Perfect.]
Now?
Electric.