This is the only movie that matters.

(Source: fashion-and-film)

If I could have Coachella inside me, I would.

14 days.

Tequila makes me drunk text people I shouldn’t. And now i’m stuck hating myself for the next 3 months.

Grow old

I hope you know that I know you’re bored.

Maybe not with her but with yourself.

And I hope that you look in the mirror every now and then

and see the same empty sadness in your face

and understand that no matter the company you have,

you will always be like this.

Because love doesn’t mean shit,  

when you can’t stand the sight of your own existence. 

I only watch Hoarders so I can laugh at all the dead cats that the cleaning crew finds at the bottom of the mess.

I hope to meet someone who finds that just as entertaining.

We sat on the sand and watched the waves from the darkness. We chugged our beers and I wanted to laugh in my own silence. It was just him and I. Finally. He said he missed “this” as he looked straight into the water.

And I nodded in agreement.

I never agree with anyone.

I wish I wasn’t so shy. I wish I wasn’t so quiet. I wish I could converse the way he can. He talked about everything and anything. 

His mother tried killing herself when he was just a kid. She was sent away and so was he.

And we sat there in the cold in complete silence for about 20 seconds. There were so many things I’ve could’ve said. So many ways to turn it around into a sick joke, but all I could do was stare into the infinite amount of dark water in front of me and say nothing. And maybe he told me to get a reaction. Maybe all he wanted was to share a part of his fucked up story in order to get the fucked up version of mine. But I wouldn’t.

I couldn’t.

But I gave him my understanding. Because when it comes to chaos, it’s always a little less sad to have someone else feel it too.

"You look like a gnome in that sweater", he said

The closest thing to a compliment.

"I was kinda going for a T-rex."

"No", shaking his head in disagreement. 

I hate when they disagree.

And so the story goes with him just wanting a friend. Wanting a simple companionship with a girl who is able to grasp what he says and be able to go with it. But the girl is selfish. The girl doesn’t need friends. The girl just wants one thing because that is what she was set out to do, Because in the end, she is too much of a coward to feel anything else. I tried to salvage the short amount of time I had left with him. But I will always be her little sister. He can hear it in my laugh. I think his friendship with her will always stand in the way. And finally after all these months, I can’t help but to think that from this point on, it will just be a waste of time.

Four years ago. That winter.

Sometimes I can’t express how much I miss that freedom. I was a drunk. There were drugs. I was alive.

I had a dream that my mother went to jail.

And all I cared about was the missing cap to my red lipstick.

At the end of the dream, we ended up losing the house and I decided to throw a party so ridiculously out of control, that the house ended up in pieces. Literally.

I’m no expert in symbolism, especially in dreams, but what I do know is how disconnected I felt towards my mother getting thrown in jail. And how careless I was with letting the house get completely destroyed.

And in reality, I’ve been there and I’ve done that. I’ve sat. I’ve waited. I’ve visited. 

And it’s exactly what you think hell will be like.

I am so detached from everything. Even in my dreams.