If It Means a Lot To You.
The names Dylan,
©

Dorment

It’s nights like these I really miss my father. Growing up all I aspired in life was to make my father proud of me. Everything I did was to try and get closer to him. The weekends when I was older I spent with him i consider to be some of the happiest times of my life. Every other weekend was an adventure and who better to spend it with than my dad. A lot has changed since then. The stick that wedged between us has long punctured that admiration. I find myself laying there asking myself “why me” The man I looked up to isnt the same as I used to see. I miss it so much my head does 360s and tortures me to my very being. I miss my dad. I miss the days in the townhouse where I spent every waking moment with him. I miss living on the lake with him and his friends and the parties where even though he had a few beers he still made sure everyone knew I was his son and how much he loved me. I miss just the car rides to our house in Kilgore just to see how his week went and if things were looking up. I miss him more than anything on this entire planet. I never cry, and I’m to the point of being pathetic over this matter. I just want my dad

What a fucking night

Karma is a bitch

Not much makes me happier than to see someone who hurt me in the past get buttfucked by karma. I wish it would happen more frequently.

the-beauty-of-words-blog:


Words #445

Inner demons

Nighttime really fucks me. My inner demons hit me when I’m alone and vulnerable and drive out the person I hide so deep down. Gives me a true sense of how alone I actually am in this world; and the only person who truly gives a damn about me is moving across the state for college in 3 months. I need to stop searching for impossibles and find a purpose. Not all who wander are lost, except for me. I’ve become a victim of my own circumstance.