Oxygen gets you high. In a catastrophic emergency, you’re taking giant panicked breaths. Suddenly you become euphoric, docile. You accept your fate. It’s all right here. Emergency water landing - 600 miles an hour. Blank faces, calm as Hindu cows.

I am losing hope that I’ll be the one who’ll make you happy. I feel like I make you sad most of the time, and having to swallow that guilt is horrible. But well, its probably true isn’t it? Sad, brutal truths. Sometimes I wish you can just program me to your liking, so that I don’t have to constantly make all the bad decisions and screw us both up.
ashlynnx ashlynnx
26-30, F
Jul 29, 2010