my hands smell like cigarettes and my breath smells like coffee. my socks are wet from the snow and my nose is pink from the wind. my tears are hidden behind my smile and my hair is damaged from straightening it far too much. i'm a hot mess, really.
i don't even think anybody reads my blog anymore and strangely, i'm alright with that. it's a release for me; especially today. i haven't posted in so long and i didn't realize how detrimental it was becoming. when i write, i'm happy. i'm free of judgment and scrutiny; i'm me. i can spill out all of my innermost thoughts and my deepest emotions and my strongest feelings and nobody says shit to me.
so even though i don't feel like sitting here expelling every detail of my life, i still feel as though i have. my thoughts were so tangled and my life was so haywire before i began typing but now that i'm pressing my fingertips against my keyboard i'm forced to think about the things i've been keeping tucked away in the crevices of my mind and the dusty, cobwebbed corners of my heart. it's almost as though as soon as i hone in on writing my blog the whole world stops moving and all of the chaos surrounding me ceases. sadly, this entry will cease, too. meaning that as soon as i double click that orange 'publish post' button, the complex nature of my complicated life will resume making me feel like i'm stuck on a teacup ride, spinning and spinning, never stopping. i think i'm going to throw up. (publish post)
