isacaju
That's what I feel today. I'm at the airport, waiting for my flight and I will soon get to see my family. I'm optimistic about what the Holidays will bring to me. I don't know, I haven't been home for a while, it's gonna be good. I'm sure it will.
Wrong. I think i'm wrong. I'm wrong because I don't know what I really want. I'm wrong because I wasn't good enough to get into my college. Wrong. It's all wrong. It's wrong that I have to beg for a hug. It's even worse that I have no one to ask it for.
White. I like them white. At the moment I'm in sort of an exchange program, therefore, the house isn't mine, meaning, I have to use the sheets they give to me. I don't like blue sheets, they are ugly. I miss my white ones, that's for sure.
Again? I've already written about this.
writing since 2010 · 5 entries · 3 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means isacaju showed up.
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the words isacaju reaches for
wrongwhitesheetsblueonessoonsuresmellingcleanhappymakinglovenowhatespacebuy