The Euphoric Blog of a Ginger Woman
Here lies the feelings and random, spontaneous posts of a lovely redheaded adolescent as she ventures through the world (un)noticed and living life as best as she can.
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But a guy that I could never get ‘cause his girlfriend was pretty fit and everyone who knew her loved her so. And I made you leave her for me and now I’m feeling pretty mean but my mind has fucked me over so many times a man could never know.Laura Maurling
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I can’t help but think that you’re just another page in my diary and I’m just another drunken notch in your belt
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I wish I would have saved these words of my wounds, my embarassed soul. I would confine the letters to a single page signed with fluid emotion. I would tell of the way you held me and spoke softly in my ear; sweet nothingness that floats in the air circulating around us. Although air travels, it somehow always finds its way back to default. She’s your default. I’m your rollercoaster that sat in the palm of your hand. A marrienette puppet. I cant wait forever, it might possibly rekindle that day. Or I could spend years wanting to feel your nose push against mine one last time; or the begging of you to keep your eyes open, because I love them. I like the thought of them looking at me, with those eyes, the one’s that speak miracles. Time, inturn, was indeed emphemeral. Ubquituous.
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When you love someone you spend hours and hours with them, and even the mightiest forces in the netherworld could not say whether the hours you spend increase your love or if you simply spend more hours with someone as your love increases. And when the love is over, when the diner of love seems closed from the outside, you want all those hours back, along with anything you left at the lover’s house and maybe a couple of things which aren’t technically yours on the grounds that you wasted a portion of your life and those hours have all gone southside. <3
