So. I went to knife party on Saturday with some of my guy friends I’ve gone to school with since grade 9. They have been to the Guv a lot, and know pretty much everyone there. I also just got lectured and talked down to by someone that smokes weed and dabs everyday all day on the dangers of doing drugs. What a joke. So what if I did 5 caps of m… I’ve never greened out before or been to the hospital for alcohol poisoning.. oh wait.. You have! I had a bad trip and saw some scary shit for a little bit. But you know what? The rest of my night was the best fucking night I’ve had all summer. Guess what.. Jamie and I danced and made out the entire night until the sun rose to my favourite DJ’s on the planet and it felt fucking amazing. If i did that every weekend.. then that would be a problem. But I don’t.. so stop treating me like some goddamn charity case when you were the reason I started doing serious drugs in the first place since I was so fucking anxious and depressed all the time from the shit storm you decided to continue for months and months and months. So you know what? I finally start to feel a little better and of course your “let’s fuck with Taylor” radar senses that and decides to message me again and turn it in to a fight. Bye. Seriously though. Go be friends with Eva you two are clearly soooo alike and anti-drugs.. Ha. You act so fucking righteous when your hidden agenda just consists of fucking with me.
I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken. But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is. When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I’d been living, they asked me why - but there’s no use in talking to people who have home. They have no idea what it’s like to seek safety in other people - for home to be wherever you lay your head. I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean… And if I said I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying. Because I was born to be the other woman. Who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone. Who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.
