It's 4am again and I'm just getting started. People are boring and I want to burn with excitement or anger and bleed, bleed through my words. I want to get all fucked up and write real and raw and ugly and beautifully. I bet you're sleeping safe and calm, and you can stay there, it's safer there, and you wouldn't stand one night on this journey my mind wanders off to every night you close your eyes. I'll stay here one day and I will never come down.  I promise I can fly before I hit the ground. It doesn't even hurt anymore. I swear, it doesn't hurt.
Charlotte Eriksson, Empty Roads & Broken Bottles; in search for The Great Perhaps
art, artist, artists, beautiful, boring, ed, excitement, fly, hurt, hurting, journals, poetry, self-destruction, self-harm, selfdestruction, selfharm, sleep, sleeping, ugly