words from the bathroom floor

i often wonder what we have in common. and im looking for a little advice. how are we supposed to know when to put away the candles? when the flame stops flickering, when the hot wax ruins the table cloth, or when you're good and ready to blow them out and call it a night? i would say the latter, but lately i've been noticing my candles to flicker out and die long before their time. im not sure what to make of it. but i am beginning to realize that i've wasted a lot of time and money. which is more than you can say, you blind soul. you just wouldnt think of it, you just wouldnt see it, you just wouldnt care. you just wouldnt. and thats you. but not me. im a money waster, but the problem is i dont realize i've bought a piece of crap until i've brought it home and thrown away the receipt.

looking glass

phoebe, we're not the same, but we think the same. its not contagious, but if you're willing to get the ball rolling, then im all in. its not the repeat. its not the uncontrollable vocal cords. its not the steps, the fingers, the squares or the knees. its the ticks. its the antics. its the thoughts, once you make up your mind then there's no turning back, you have to do it. i want to sit up on the old wooden cat walk with you, together we can look down upon the dull yellow lights and admire the green folding chairs.

listen to the teacher, do what you want. if that means jump, then just jump.

weedsss

it hasnt been my day, my week, my month, or even my year.

give give give= ____ ____ ____ ??? that doesn't make any sense at all.

toss your cookies

thats really gross.

you're tiny.

you're not.

i prefer you as a blonde.

i just cracked my ankles.

read me a story.

ten perfect little red squares.

watch me while i walk awayyyyy.

fold, paste, repeat.

ive got sparkles from head to toe.

let the rain sing you a lullaby at night.

what if i were?

i read that.

and i think you're too hard on yourself.

again and again til i get it right.

just one more time.

silver liquid drops.

i want to sit on the beach.

with you.

in the rain.

you know you make me wanna....!

barffff.

i broke a nail.

curve and turn and curve again. and it hits me like a ton of bricks. and suddenly the wheels are turning again, and it all makes sense. and absolutely no sense at all, of course.

the look in your eyes got me noticing. the way your head never sits exactly upright. the way you always seem to look disheveled, like you're running late. it made me remember that. and right then and there i made up my mind. i was okay with giving away sixteen. because honestly, what am i holding out for? what is waiting another sixteen or forty of three hundred. it doesnt matter. its just for me.

so adios sixteen. welcome to the rest of my life.

do you know something i dont?

CARMEX IS ADDICTING

dun dun DUNNN!

how can i describe this in a way that you can understand. its like i am watching the roses in my vase wilt. each day they get further and further from life. there is no way to recover them, no way to nurse them back to life, because i am never home to feed them. there are a few lone roses still standing tall, even with the murky brown water. they seem to have fused together, so no matter what i do now they're going to be alive forever, leaning on each other for the life they crave.

when it gets to the point that all i have a vase of dead roses in murky brown water, i understand that it must be time to run to the market and purchase some new roses. i'm supposed to get new roses when i leave the house. new roses would make the room bright again. new roses would change everything.

but the market is all out or roses. and i have no money, and i am one hundred percent completely out of time.