maybe… we could run away. pack our bags, and use our whole life savings just to board the nearest plane. because we’re young, and irresponsible. and maybe that’s okay.

maybe we could get lost, in a city of blue, and green, and grey. watch the world dissolve before our eyes in the sea of people, and the blinding speed of the subway.

maybe we could be happy. for a change. maybe you could go to college, and tell the most beautiful stories. maybe you could start a cafe. maybe i could stand up on stage, and say it like i mean it, to the roaring crowd. maybe i could be brave. maybe i could be loud.

maybe i could rent a shitty place, just off the city, by a river. and dance in the pouring rain. and i hope you know that despite everything… i would choose this life in an instant. all over again.

After I graduate, I have a dream of getting to go on tour, for, like, this blog? A book? I’m not really sure. But I’d do a bunch of speaking events, and travel somewhere. It’s just a dream right now, and I have no idea the direction my life is really headed, but it’s a really nice idea, and something I like to think about sometimes before I go to sleep. Which is, obviously, what inspired this poem. I should have more thoughts on this poem, but honestly at this point I am mostly just tired, because it is really late and I have been procrastinating for far, far too long on this piece, but I don’t know, I… really like it.

Lots of love,


acoustic version

i think that’s what i saw in you. because they’re autotuned, but we’re the real version. we’re messy hair and yesterday’s outfit, and the most random, hilarious sense of humour.

you were acoustic. you were the most lovely version of a song we’ve all heard over and over again only this time i get it. 

and whatever it means, i think our little group feels like home. and i still don’t really get it. what it means, to love someone for what they are, and how to be a good person, and i know that sometimes i do a pretty shitty job at it. and i know we’re all a mess. i know i’ve written this stupid poem before, and i’ll probably write it again.

but i think we’re gonna be ok. in the end. and i don’t know what’s going to happen, but… we’ll get there eventually.

no matter how hard. and long, and shitty the road is. and i know. i know. i know. i’m not gonna try and romanticize it. 

but in the end, we are going to get there. i promise.

and hey. i’m not gonna leave you alone in this.

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