052

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.

I usually devour books. Especially books I enjoy and can feel that magic. You know that spark that goes through you when you read something so goddamn fucking beautiful. That feeling that this is going to stay with you for the rest of your fucking life and you’re going to read it again the moment you reach the end. It makes you manic and breathless because it speaks to something inside you.

But I can’t devour this book. I have to read it in installments. A chapter at a time because it’s so fucking beautiful and the feelings it evokes in me is too fucking much to take in large quantities.

I’ve related to characters before and sympathized, empathized whatever. But I’ve never actually FELT it before. Like I feel mins whole relationship with ed. And how he’s such an asshole but he … when he was with her… oh my God.

And MIN. Her feelings are so manic and all over and I can feel it and I’m creeping on a friend of a friend and its like the residual min-feelings and I’m staring at his instagram feed and thinking it’d be so great if he and I met at a party And then it’d be Taylor swifts enchanted and her ask me to go steady and we’d use those old endearments like sweetheart and dear which no one uses anymore and I don’t know why

And I love how Min is just so open and honest about hee interests and even though ed doesn’t get it he still tags along and has a great time and loves her.
That’s it. That’s what I want.

Can ya dig going roller skating with that neon light and cherry coke in diners. Wandering around book stores and antique stores and buying all those old photographs that turn into stories. Driving really fast with all the Windows open and picnics and just being close.

And it makes me think of this time last year when I was in some kind of dream and even though it all ended so stupidly I’ll always remember that conversation about favourite words ans favourite quotes and I think I held on for so long because it seemed like what I always imagined and wanted was finally happening.

No one understood how I felt then. They thought I was over reacting and just being TOO MUCH. But they couldn’t understand it was almost like a dream come true. Like I have all my best and most comforting dreams right before I wake I wake up and I always try to bury myself deeper to stay there and that’s what I as trying to do.

Just they were my feelings and they were looked upon as frivolous and I think that’s what hurt the most. To me it wasn’t just something small. It was that hope that it could have been something.

Sometimes I feel so disconnected. The world is such a pretty committee. Like if someone else said the things I said they would be taken more seriously. If they said those things they’d be forgiven because they’re universally cute

Its easy to tune me out or blame me for being a bitch because I’m not pleasing to the eye. My function is to flatter others and be grateful for the kindness they bestow on me.

Lol and what kills me is that I can’t even talk about how differently I get treated without people telling me I’m crazy overreacting sensitive whatever because everyone fucking does it and they don’t even realize.

Its so easy to make judgements on who I am what I do my interests based on how I look or act. Laura Palmer and her secrets and me and my own. Mind like windham earl. Like a diamond, hard, cold and brilliant.

And everyone will tell me I’m crazy or thinking too much but you can’t know unless you’ve been on the other side.

Stop telling me how I feel or editing it so it becomes manageable for you. And its like I don’t feel like I can talk about this to anyone or I can’t say what I feel and I have to filter everything and its exhausting. Casue yknow I’d be o c overreacting sensitive crazy

Like none of y’all can even say “fat” in front of me. You look away or you close me out of the convo for a moment or saying shit like THAT person, not you is fat and gross or looking awkwardly away from me while you try to find a synonym because you’re being kind. Which you actually aren’t.

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