HEART IN A CAGE

“I’m almost never serious, and I’m always too serious. Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I’m like a collection of paradoxes.

Amanda, 16.

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’

—Jack Kerouac, “On The Road”

Some lame excuses

I know I haven’t been around much and I feel like I have to explain myself to anyone that still follows me.

I’ve been going through a lot of crap lately. I’ve been let down and hurt in so many ways by someone that I never expected to. And I haven’t had any inspiration or thought that anything was worth reblogging.

I don’t know when or if I’ll come back. It’s not only being let down, I have some problems of my own that I need to deal with first. Just, righ now, I’m not myself and this was supposed to be my blog not some other crazy, fucked up girl that I can’t reconize.

But I’m working on that and let’s se how it goes, if I ever get better I may come back. Maybe I won’t get better but I’ll miss this and so I will post again. Who knows. I certaintly don’t, in a matter of fact, I fell like I don’t know anything anymore.

Love is a blind whore with mental disease and no sense of humor.