The world isn't made for dreamers with obsessions and ambitions. The world isn't made for hands dipped in black ink and dried up blood and human life. The world isn't made for scribbling at three o'clock and innocent paper. The world isn't made for burning passion and dreamy stares, the world is made for crashing cars and enchanting flares. The world is made for turning heads and blinking eyes. The world is made for terrified nails and rusting walls and the world is made for freezing hate and uncontrollable falls and it's alright to refuse and say the world is made for us and only us because just right now it's so fucking horrible that this world wasn't made for us at all at all at all and that we don't even matter on this tiny speck of chaos in this whirlwind of crazy.
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Catcher
Teen FictionPerhaps paper wasn't made for writing. Perhaps the first paper I wrote on was simply at the wrong place at the right time. Parhaps it wanted to feed the fire, not my blind ambition.
