my roommate and i drank multiple cups of coffee at 9 pm. and now i really feel sick. my head and bones are exploding.
i cleaned the bathroom and kitchen.
i only have half my rent and it was due 3 days ago.
my work schedule this week is a joke.
i’m the worst waitress most of the time.
i don’t give a shit about that place. at all.
do i care about the wrong things? am i fucking up by putting all my ambition and passion into love and art? am i being irresponsible for not putting school and money first?
no. because if i think if i die tomorrow, and all my life was spent worrying about the future, i would have failed and missed the point of it all.
i need to make what i am passionate about my job. thats the only solution.
i think of you in the middle of the night.
and how at the end of the day, i just want to be near you.
no matter how good or bad it is.
no matter how confusing it gets.
and how i do want to be loved by you.
but i guess i also want a million dollars.