I’m more worried about the things I’m not doing then what I manage to fix in my life. Got my job, and my payment plans down. Debt gone, family covered, love life still covered even when we have some minor turbulence. The things I’m unhappy with are on my mind more often then not, unable to really pass up those few small thoughts of my inabilities. So here I stand, staring at the lingering puzzle pieces, somebody call up jigsaw, cause I’m not sure if I’d stop before getting those keys.
My interpretations are still discovering themselves, words still hidden, ideas in treasure chests, and I only got an idea of the general area on some of them. Maybe finding one sets off the domino’s, but for now I’m still searching for the needle in my haystack. This headache pounding louder, and even though nothing hurts in my head, my intentions take the biggest blow, my future seems to be bruised, and any type of make up I find seems to be a shade too wrong.
The worst part of me, is the idea of finishing my tasks incomplete, and yet the closer I get to answering the last question on my Exam, the blue book looks nothing closer to being finished.

I tear up every time man.

I’m trying to figure out when “oh, it’s midnight” turned into “oh, it’s only midnight”
(Source: estebansraybans, via noreturnfromeightysix)

Typewriter Series #239 by Tyler Knott Gregson
I love this so much.
(via soldiersofdistortion)