Find me

Here's the truth....take it for what it is or walk away. For those who need to see only. 

[itsprettierhere]

March 16th, 2016

Hey....wish you were here? 

Isn’t that what I always say....basically. It’s nice here, though. I feel like you would enjoy it. I got my ducks back in a row, and have actually been enjoying the past few days.

Baby....I faded, faded, faded. 

The grass practically ate me up. So green and cool under me. I could have sunk into the earth and never returned. 

We could have match. Both of us wrapped in our beautiful green coats, fresh smelling and dew-laced. All done up in smears of soil and chlorophyll. 

I don’t know what I’m doing here. 

Love, 

Ophie

[itsprettierhere]

Journal #2- (March 6th, 2016)

Hey

Can we talk for a few?

I saw you down the hallway, creeping out of the bathroom. I remember the nights I would sit in my room, waiting for the flashing of the light as the door opened and closed. You would walk out and then peek in on me. If I was awake, you would crawl in too. I can’t even say if I wasn’t, I always stayed up waiting for you. 

My chest hurts. So, so bad. I feel like it’s caving in, forcing all the air out without letting me take another breath. I’m so scared and you’re not here to tell me it’s going to be okay. 

I don’t know what I’m doing. Or why I am where I am. I have no right to be working for a music studio. I don’t know the first thing about being a personal assistant. I’m better off staying where I am- in a dead end job that’ll eventually leave me on stage...naked...for anyone with enough cash to take a shot off of. 

I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here. But where else can I go? I’m scared of everything. I had a panic attack tonight because he couldn’t get it to me on time. I have to wait. I have to feel again. I don’t want this. I don’t know what to do with this. Every fucking light is on and as blinding as it is, I can’t bare to reach for the switch. 

Please come back. Hold me close and tell me that for as broken as the world is, together we make a whole. 

I miss the rattle of your breath,

Ophie

[itsprettierhere]

Journal one- the first tends to be the worst (1/31/2016)

Hey. 

I’m not sure how well I’m fitting in. It’s strange, living in a city your entire life just to feel like you don’t belong here. My heart breaks, this place is so full of wonder and yet here I am. Stuck with the idea that I just don’t fit in. 

It might just be the fact that I don’t engage people, enough. I’m bad at conversations, especially considering I talk to two people on the regular. You.....and I guess mom? She still counts, right? She called today. Wanted to see how things are going. Says she cut out my last piece and hung it on the fridge. That’s kind of cute. And maybe thirteen years to late but opps....

I’m going to keep trying, though. For you. I’ll talk to people more often, make some actual connections. It might do me some good. Maybe even find someone who doesn’t mind staying up with me. Everyone knows the conversation gets more interesting as the night wears on. 

Anyway, to make a short story shorter: in summary, Ophelia Grace Cooper is a social pariah who is on the case to fix that. I vow to make at least one genuine friend by the time I return to this mess. 

K? Love you. 

[caseytakespicturesandotherstuff]

Dissociate. 

Self portraits in the place I go to get away from reality.

April, 2015