the fleeting youth
"The goal isn't to live forever, the goal is to create something that will."
-Chuck Palahniuk
I'm eighteen.
I'm from Norcal, & it shows.
I go to UC Riverside and I'm a writing major, but don't expect too much.
I like vaguely referencing my life, posting pictures of delicious-looking food, finding inappropriately humorous photos, and venting on Tumblr. You get older every second, so let's embrace
If you let me, here’s what I’ll do.
Tangled hands and twisted tongues, secrets spilling out from those forgotten corners of ourselves. There’s something in the way you look at me that propels me to tell you my everything. Scrambling to make plans and explore the world together, we’re left breathless in the wake of what we both know is taking place. You make me calm and giddy and restless and fulfilled. I fight myself deciding which I like more: racing up mountainsides in the glowing heat, pushing each other into the grass and your kisses on my scraped-up knees, or lying on your scratchy blanket tracing each other’s faces, talking about the vastness of everything or our favorite flavor of Pop-Tart. There’s so much filling the silence between kisses, so many stories i want to hear and tell. Your eyes, locked on mine- they see that I go to Chipotle unreasonably often, and that I can’t stand being wrong, all these flaws. These flaws that you somehow accept and embrace when you kiss my forehead and tell me to shut up and be happy, baby. Then you push up your glasses in the way that inevitably leaves them crooked, and smile into my lips like there’s nothing you would rather do. Sitting in this fiction workshop I’m realizing over and over that you’re my perfect kind of crazy. I’m crazy for your crazy.
