dubyateeeff

I feel like I am constantly saving them up, for later maybe, like pennies in a fat piggy bank, minus the reward when he breaks. I feel like the pennies just disappear or something, like there is more often than not nothing for me to do, nothing for me to say, and endless things for me to doubt. There is too much fear in this, fear we should be better and bigger than... but it is nothing in you or in me, but is it something between us? All of us? An unwillingness to speak it in a way where we don't feel desperate first, a last resort. We are all so much better than we behave. I haven't been completely honest with a single person in my entire life. It's not my fault. That's just the reality. That's just human communication. But why do we care at all what other people say, how people say them. What is the value of language any way? The people I know the best I've known since before we met, before they knew we would matter, when I was alone. That's how I learned, you know? Is that the only way? Why do I feel like they always see it in everyone but me?

I don't mean that in like a pitying sense but more like a question of self. Room for improvement?

I went to the fair a few weekends ago. These are my favorite pictures from it.