thoughts ≠ sx

By uphillbattlex

1.5K 284 148

something in between a rant book and a book for a girl to ramble in. [ @clairescovers ] More

welcome mat
you
singing in the rain
a little sloppy
one direction and stigmas
complications and crushes
all i know
plagiarism
letter to a heartbreaker
sunburnt
problematic males
hating
romanticized
white nail polish
prose
too much on me (tag)
xi
willows whispering all the lies
negative charges
1.19.16 / 2:34am
caeruleus
i want to write you a song
body image
a snippet of healing
my goodbye
same mistakes
a faint sound beneath the floorboards
oh wonder
your mumbles when i sleep
twelve sixteen : supernova
shivers
we are all trapped in metal boxes
stained glass windows
the ribbon tied around his wrist
tidbit
my deepest regrets
that would be enough
vague extremes
platonic
unhealthy coping methods
blank staff paper and sharp notes
undeuxtrois
power imbalances and its dangers
vacant lots
sunken in
a flowered mini skirt and red lips
blow us all away
a fragment of your smile
the handbook
too much glue makes things stickier
the faults of giving and no receiving
to whom i left behind
baseball cards
strangers
the methodical way i shatter into pieces
sam's anxiety tips
a breather

fire escapes and times square

4 2 0
By uphillbattlex


i was standing in a hotel window in times square, watching billboards change and cast a neon glare across the wall, waiting for the richard rodgers theater to shut their marquee lighting off. i was silent, phone long since turned off and abandoned in the mess that were bedsheets. i realized in that moment- there are a million different people. walking across 42nd, crossing to the starbucks that had been closed for sixteen minutes on 43rd, singing down near the 24 hour mcdonalds open next to the theater where an american in paris was playing, a melody of rent and chicago songs. i was just the human sitting on the windowsill in hotel room three hundred and one, waiting for the theater marquees to shut down.

it was so quiet...i could breathe. i wasn't me, i wasn't my anxiety, i was just...breathing. i was just existing. i was watching, waiting, observing, falling in love with midtown manhattan. i wasn't thinking. i wasn't struggling.

it was just me. me, manhattan, the richard rodgers theater's marquees, and a million different people all existing at the same time.

~

samantha

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