I want to run to something, or in fact just have a something to run to in the first place. Misfits and bohemians and people with mattresses on their floors, vague job descriptions and vaguer plans.
A place where it's okay to sit all alone in the dark thinking about nothing, where the television is broken and sometimes the only light comes from lit cigarettes and stars. It's okay to write on the walls too. Write your lists, your words, your quotes, your thankyou notes.
I listen to my heartbeat sometimes. I wonder if it should beat as fast as it does or hurt like it does when I think of the things and the people and the places I've lost.
Nostalgia fades faster than polaroids. I want costume parties in forests, lights in the sky, guitars in the grass after midnight, chlorine in my hair, glitter on my cheeks, making memories, making heartbeats, changing tides.
-Deerlings&Ghostthings
