not again.


shel silverstein

I know you little, I love you lots,
my love for you could fill ten pots,
fifteen buckets, sixteen cans,
three teacups, and four dishpans.


i honestly told myself a couple days ago that there was “no way this is gonna be worse than irene..” i mean well clearly i was wrong.

i’m scared for my town. there was just a loud crash. a scream along with the blustering gusts and never ending calls of sirens. sandy get the fuck out of here. no one wants you.

i will be here, don’t you cry

perfect day to sit in my dorm room and do absolutely nothing. yeahhh baby

i would absolutely love if classes could be canceled tomorrow.

last night was funnnn and i like all the girls on my floor a lot. and i’m glad i went with them instead of clubbing. ugh. clubbing. i saved like $25 too. go caroline!

as always tensions with the parents are high, can’t do anything about that.


you’ll be in my heart

Fuck this day

Fuck this day

up on the ladder

parents are coming up today. hopefully everything goes fine

i had to explain to someone the other day why i think adoption is a stupid idea. from my perspective, because from the outside it seems like a fantastic thing: a child gets a entire plethora of great opportunities from a family who sincerely wants him or her. except you have to account for the fact that growing up without knowing where you really came from is like trying to write a book without an exposition. those years during adolescence when you’re trying to figure out who the fuck you are, that’s difficult when you don’t have the slightest idea. and no one can tell you.

i’m entirely grateful for the opportunities i have now, because i know i wouldn’t have had them otherwise. and i love my family. but i don’t feel apart of it. i don’t know if i ever really will.

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