art9on9the9moon
sports. i hate them. sweat, pain, humiliation. gym class was hell. ill never go back again. i hate them. running whith such grace. i can only fall now, just as i always have.
rejected. thats what i got today. rejection. a lovely comfort. im so used to it that its like a tapestry hanging on my wall or another entry in my journal. rejection.
im never understood. every holiday and every other day. im neveunderstood. we as a whole are never understoodbutm used to it im in love with it, now a days. its my comfort, to be ignored. and im ok. you however, are not. and we are not understood.
i like juice, its cold and wet and slides down my throat slowly on a hot summers day. its soothing and comforting kind of like my mother. its softness surrounds me and i am taken aback by the serenity of such simple pleasure. its
juice. the fruit of my life. i juice my brains until i can no longer function. and i'm just a child on the verge of being juice-less. this world cares to much about the juice they're bringing home