Another night spent seething as I fall into the life cycle of a hobo with no responsibilities whatsoever. The nights are long and lonely, the days are short and fleeting. Only two ish more days to our Parisian adventure and I question the foundations of this entire.. idea. I say idea because it does not seem real to me right now. For one, I am showing tinges of green. Indulging in my paranoia and suspicion. No one's telling me you seem the kind but no one's telling me you don't either. If I unravel something... a million different possibilities but rest assured, a world of hurt for you. Promise. Sigh. And the above: "Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?" Is that all it was: alcohol & some epic coincidences that found me collapsing home only to explode in a steady stream of tears? Maybe it's just... everything. You, him, her.. too many to deal with. And yet at the end of the day, the only one I crave for is you. Don't fucking mess it up. It is only beginning to hit me now that I'm really about to be whisked away to live like a hobo on the dirty streets of Paris (still think we should've slept on the streets). City of Love and all the other corny stuff I'm pretty damn sure will remain myths. Just tryna keep my head up though I really worry. I know there are some things I take too seriously for my own good. Too many thoughts jumbled in the mess that is my brain. December, December...
I promise you babe I won't do you no harm
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