May 2010
April 2010
And if I could swim,
I’d swim out to you in the ocean,
swim out to where you were floatin’,
in the dark.
I hate thinking about the past, I hate remembering only the good things and forgetting why I’ve made the decisions that I have. I hate the way I forgive and forget and then feel like it’s my fault.
and if I was brave…
Oh little Cody Pomeray if there had been some way to send a cry to you even when...
– Jack Kerouac, the one man who makes me unbearably proud to be an aspiring novelist.