Me. The 1975 // Welcome to New York. Taylor Swift

these words whispered directions to my soul in times when i thought i was lost. 
though most times i was actually stuck around the corner second guessing my map.
these words have held my tongue for me when i wanted to lash my whip out at a bird- someone who was just flying by. 
an observer in the crowd.
these words are on repeat in my mind. 
releasing and chaining me all at once. 

saving me. 

what are these words?

they are advice from those who care. 
they are insecurities painters decide to include in their masterpieces. 
they are hearts that choose the twinning heartbeat that's charred. 
instead of that perfect beat that is too slow for their pace. 

everyone has lyrics in their mind.
in their soul, in their life. 

but what are these words?
they are my words.

and they are 

THE PLAYLIST

why am i writing this? hahaha its a freakin friday at exactly 4:29 and what am i doing? checking the blogs. and fixing my first post. because its super cheesy and that was the intro to the intro. here i am slouching in my seat listening to my sibs belting out

I CAN SHOW YOU THE WORLD.
SHINING.
SHIMMERING.
SPLENDID.

and here they come. running around the corner. hes screaming whos dunnit as she comes barreling up the stair after him. and im chuckling at them. who knows why? hahaha i dont even know.

everyones got their New York. their own little paris i guess, but its new york. yes not the capitalized new york but the lowercase one. who likes tall letters anyway?

my new york is full of ordinary words. i wont try to impress you with lengthy letters or short stickies. i like being plain. because everyone understands the meaning. everyone understands i love you and everyone understands shut up.

my new york is deprived of original thoughts. i get inspired from everything. from quotes. pictures. books. especially music. and i base myself off of others works. because i feel a sense of knowing who i am, even for a split second, before becoming self conscious again.

my new york is full of socks and comforters. you must wear socks in my new york. to hide those weird things we call feet. like what? ew. and who doesnt love a good poofy comforter?? like just imagine being enveloped in a warm hug every night- by the blanket of cotton and skin.

this new york has a required law that states we must turn off our phones during dinner time. cause theres nothing better than dining on the best alfredo pasta and making conversation with the loves of your life.

new york hates punctuation. why should i caps the first word? just so you know its the beginning of a new ending?

oh and i am obsessed with the sounds. this new york is never quiet. the streets are bombarded with voices and guitar strums constantly. and i love it that way.

this new yorker loves it here. and thats why i rarely ever leave. because why would i want to leave? so someone can scream at me on the street saying

HEY WHY WOULD YOU LIKE POOFY COMFORTERS? THOSE SUCK!

and i quietly shrink into my comforter thinking

...well i liked em...