And I continue

Nothing is really what it seems anymore, no one notices the real and the fake because we mold them into one. God damn, I can't tell you how true that is. I update tumblr more. I'm stuck.

It's my birthday weekend. Last two nights were a blur but I've got some bug bites and scuffed knees reminding me I went out.

Why am I always standing up for you, kid? I hate when people call you a douche bag because they don't know you like I do. You're such a public being, and I can tell you keep most close; I'll never know it all.

Ugh, no one reads this. But I'll continue regardless.

I'm Haley, I'm now seventeen and I write because I don't have a reason.
It used to be about keeping myself busy, lately it's more keeping myself sane and present.
I can't help it, but I get lonely; I don't have things to touch, taste, break in pieces.
I'm human, there's beauty in that but few take notice.
Time just goes on, I can't wait for the day where it'll stop for me.
Just remembered: time is never taken, given, or borrowed.
And it sure as Hell won't wait for me, it's nice to pretend, though.
I'm still pretty young, making excuses, I still can.
It'd be nice if you took the time to get to know me, I'm not all I'm cracked up to be.
I'm over high school, I just want my city.

Just



Droppin' by to say we're friends, after everything.

And I can't say I hated you, or ever did.

Liberation



Drifting floating through my mind mind mind. Doors swing open and I don't need help holdin' them because I've learned how over time.


Hushed voices after dark. Words don't say much of anything because my eyes are yelling about directions to my blue and red lined diagrammed heart. I'm hoping you read it, because few want to know me, know what's real and embrace understanding.

I'm all over the place, pronounced and my tendency is to be messy. I can't really blame them, back when my ego kept me "above" all else. My mind had set itself on that they were thinking I was too busy being busy but the whispers were nice.

People don't think I mean what I say. I mean what I say.

Don't listen to me, look at me. Ironic because I've come to hate the drawing crowd, I'm giving them their moneys worth.

LISTENING TO; HER MORNING ELEGENCE - OREN LAVIE
I couldn't stop complaining about how I had been staring at a blank page for the longest time, nothing to write, nothing to say; oh that was all bullshit! I got this, I got this.



Ah,



I am hypnotized
Oh you got me
You got me drowning in your sea

Re

named that tumblr I have, ergo, the link is different.

http://stopallclocks.tumblr.com/

I prefer the way tumblr is set up, check on that blog more often for life updates : )