You know,

I'm only eighteen (nineteen in twenty-seven days, aahh!), yet I feel so much older.

I think this is a big reason why I don't get along with guys my age; they act like they're still in middle school. Actually, I take that back. I don't get along with just about anyone my age. They really do still act like kids all the time.

Dear universe,
Grow up.
Sincerely,
Morgan.

until exhausted, close our eyelids

I need someone to teach me how to smile.

photo by me (again).

Life's a journey.

And sometimes, the journey sucks.

"Oh shut up. Every time it rains, it stops raining. Every time you hurt, you heal. After darkness, there is always light and you get reminded of this every morning but still you choose to believe that the night will last forever. Nothing lasts forever. Not the good or the bad. So you might as well smile while you're here. "
- I Wrote This For You

Photo by me.

Holy crow.

I have so much to do and I haven't even started.
- Three research papers
- One analysis of an art work in an art museum or gallery
- Five sketches
- Drawing of draped fabric
- 25+ photos of one object with direct light, all of them must be different
- 10+ slides in a powerpoint about photography
- Make a stencil and use it.

All due next week.

Um.

WHAT.



In honor of the Olympics, I drew the official Olympic Sex God, Apolo Ohno.
Apolo Ohno? More like, Apolo Oh-YES.

The same words keep coming out of your mouth.

Shut up.

Photo by me.

Don't give up on the things you want.

You deserve to be loved until your insides melt.


Photo by me.

The Fragile Alliances

Sometimes I can't work out if you're a friend who wants to talk to me or an enemy who wants to take from me.


via I Wrote This For You.
Photo by Jon Ellis, photographer of I Wrote This For You.

This brought tears of joy and happiness to mine eyes.

THIS IS WHAT MR. BEAN WOULD LOOK LIKE IF HE WERE A NA'VI.


omg This is genius. It's a group on Facebook and it's HU-LARRY-US.

PS, Look what I can do with Prismacolor pencils aka the devil!

I breathe in. I breathe out.

You said you wanted to talk and that you missed me but you don't make any effort.

I've decided that's okay.


I've gotten to the point where I feel like I don't really need a lot of the people I thought I did.

You don't need that many words.

All of this is written toward you.
I hope you know how negative my feelings for you are.

Photo by me.

All I ever hear is "sorry."

Apology not really accepted. At all.

"sorry you wanted to live a boring life lived with safe choices, well thought out plans and the best possible decisions. sorry you wanted to never ever take giant leaps of faith, laugh without abandon or kiss so hard that you lost your breath. sorry you didn't spend your life travelling the world, seeing the most beautiful things on earth and dipping your toes in all the seas. sorry you fucked someone else on my birthday. sorry you didn't love me when you had the chance. sorry you forgot to say thank you. sorry that you waited so long. sorry you didn't see me when you had the chance, because I won't give you another. sorry you were too lame to pick up that book. sorry that you only speak one language, and it's the language of boring. sorry you didn't spin me. sorry you picked her. sorry you picked that. sorry you made all the right choices all the time. sorry you were so afraid of making a mistake that you made nothing. sorry you thought that special people made you special. sorry you sat still. sorry you wanted normal. sorry.

i only feel so much because i chose to live, so much. full, the fuck, out.

i'm not sorry."
- Keltie Colleen


Photo by me.

The Momento of Past Promises

Hate doesn't work like love.
You have to remind yourself to love.

via I Wrote This For You.

The Path

I don't know who you are and why you're here so soon, but I think you should leave.

You can come back when I'm gone.



Photo by me.

Big news.

I can't even bring myself to be happy for you.

Dear universe,

Please help.

Photo by me.

This is so not funny I almost want to puke.

You can't just walk into the room all blasé, tell me something huge and life changing and not really awesome for me at all, and expect me to be like, "Oh hay thatz a gud idear yew got thurr."

I'd like to move out before this bomb drops.

Photo by me.

tl;dr

Shut up.

IT IS SO HARD TO PRESS BUTTONS OMG. MY LIFE = SO HARD.

It gets to the point where it's just ridiculous.