Day 111

He calls me his Campbell's soup kid...

I like to watch plastic bags get caught in the wind. It's the way they dance, in a world of their own and go on and on until a tree or curb catch them. I remember not wearing much black because it was dark and seemed dull and boring yet now, it's the first color I turn to. I listen to music and pretend that the world is in my headphones. I pay attention to the way I walk, the way my feet land, because I'm insecure and think I look goofy when in stride. I like to listen to my neighbors have sex. I often wonder if everyone else is as dreamy and romantic as I am or if perhaps they really are all just caught up in their own lives. I wish with all my heart that happiness was just about the day to day experiences, the current moments, rather than having the dreaded worry of what my life will be like as I age. I wish love was easier to find and keep. Sometimes when I see birds perched on a wire or on a tree branch I feel a tinge of jealousy. There aren't enough flowers to look at and smell in New York. It never gets old hearing how pretty my eyes are. Rejection has, and I'm sure will always be my number one fear. I miss sleeping, decently. Everyone told me my first snow would be my only exciting one but here I am, three winters deep, and it's all just as lovely as my first view. I don't believe in karma or fate. I make foul mistakes repeatedly. Punctuality is underrated and waiting always makes me anxious.

I miss having internet.
Lola