It's alright
Made With Paper

I want to go to college and study hard and get a degree and get a good job and a husband and a house and some kids and a couple dogs. I want to settle down, be a good mom, love my husband, raise a family, have a steady income, do everything that has always been expected, continue the cycle without question.

But at the same time, I want to do anything but what is expected. I want to travel without a real destination. I want to call everywhere home. I want to sleep all day and write all night, I want to take pictures of everything and nothing. I want to go on a search for beautiful things, and I want to find beauty in the ordinary. I want to roam. I want to forget what it feels like to wake up in the morning with a bunch of things that have to be done. I want to replace that with a new-found sense of adventure and curiosity. I want to follow my heart instead of my head.

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Strong Enough- Matthew West
Memories and Melodies- Heffron Drive

I love little kids, but not merely for the cliche reason that they’re so tiny or cute or adorable. I love them because they are so much that I wish I could still be. Adults often talk down to young children, and they don’t realize that they could learn more than just a few things from them. Kids aren’t afraid to be wrong. They are fascinated by the simple things in life that we don’t even notice. They know how to love and love and love without any boundaries or fear standing in the way. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you look like, if you’re nice to them, they’ll be nice to you. They don’t need a legit reason for everything they do, they know how to do things for the simple reason that it brings them joy. They forgive and laugh so easily and often. They don’t worry about tomorrow, and they talk to strangers instead of judging them from afar. So maybe now that I’ll be a junior in high school I can safely say that I know every country in Africa and I can name the parts of a cell. But I won’t even try to pretend that any of that information gives me any greater knowledge or understanding of the world than that of my two year old cousin who smiles and laughs constantly and knows exactly what she wants. I just want my innocence and fascination of everything back.

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June 15, 2013, 9:42pm

I’m not ready to hand you my heart and watch you break it into a million pieces that I will not be able to put back together. I don’t want to remain broken and sad until the next hopeless boy walks in and tries to fix the mess you created only to make a bigger mess. Maybe my heart isn’t perfect right now. I know it’s been cracked and it’s been chipped, but it hasn’t been broken in two, or two-thousand, pieces yet, and call me whatever you want, but I’d like to keep it that way. So sorry if I’m not willing to believe all the words you say and free fall until you hopefully get around to catching me. I don’t want to be any more broken than I already am.

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this was very therapeutic
Random thoughts written on a napkin for no real reason. And I spelt “conferences” wrong but was too lazy to fix it.

I have been waiting my whole life for you to tell me that I matter to you. I needed to know that I am more than my GPA, that I meant more to you than a college scholarship or a game winning goal. I needed you to show me that I was worth more than just what I could do. But you never did. I wanted you to love me for who I am, for who I was, for everything I had the potential to be, for the things and people I loved, but you didn’t. You never made me feel loved for anything other than the things I did well. You made me feel like I was worth nothing more than what I accomplished. That who I was as a person didn’t matter as much to you as the things I could do. I tried, trust me I tried to make you happy, to make you love me for who I was, but you never showed you did. It made me feel worthless. I wanted you to see my heart, to understand the things I loved, my thoughts and feelings, my hopes and dreams, the things I lived for. And I tried to show you, but you didn’t want to see, you didn’t want to listen. You wouldn’t listen, you would just cut me off by talking about something else every time, every single time I had something that was a part of me that I wanted to share with you you wouldn’t even show you cared. And because of that I stopped trying. I didn’t want to talk to you anymore. You made me feel unimportant and worthless. I really didn’t need that from you, I already felt like that enough on my own. 

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