Do you ever listen to yourself speak and just get that overwhelming sense of, "I'm a terrible person"?

To quote Ani Difranco's "Wish I May," "This is not who I meant to be. This is not how I meant to feel."

To delight in the rain on your face,

knowing that soon your mascara will smudge, your hair will frizz out, and that no one will see you. And even they did, you don't care. And even if you did, you have hair ties, face wash, and a bag full of cosmetics for a reason.

To have a neighborhood so eerily quiet that you hear the gust of wind coming before you feel it, you hear the trees and rooftops sending you the oversized raindrops before you feel it. And to know that there's nothing eerie about it all, because you're safe. And even if you're not, you think you are. And even if you're not that safe at all, you don't care. Because it's easier to believe.

Ridiculous

Acrylic.

She can't type.
But she thinks her fingers looks nice.