I wanted you to know

The wait
Chest rising and falling
Your hair strewn out under a half-on hat,
Beard ruffled.
Me propped up on you,
Parks and Rec shining light off my MacBook,
Bouncing off your back,
Smoke wafting from incense
Filling the air next to Amy Poehler's voice.
In the morning we wake up, I make you pancakes,
Help you find your watch,
But for now you sleep
And I spend my time with Amy,
Leaning on you cradled,
Chest rising and falling.




That poem and that picture are mine. On another note, I feel alive.
-loch

smoking weed under star projectors

"The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; 

the point, however, is to change it."

Like Drake, I think I like who I'm becoming.

Much love,

Loch.

noises

You show the lights that stop me,
turn to stone.
You shine it when I'm alone,
and so I tell myself that I'll be strong
and dreaming when they're gone,
cause they're calling me home










For all the good advice I've given, I have always been that girl.
Writing is elusive. Wish me luck.

-Allie

p.s. I love Ellie

It's not a side effect

I'm in love.

Current likes/activities

Cuddling

Pleather jackets

Tetris

Spending rent money on beers

Marlboros

Lemon water

Bars, as opposed to clubs

Bus rides

Drake

Watergate

Shakespeare

I love you. Go read Hemingway.

-loch

fuck, let's get it

Tomorrow things will begin again, but not entirely in the way I'd like. Parts of myself have gone on hiatus.

-Allie

I'm not sleeping now

There's this weird sort of restless feeling that's been building in my stomach that I just can't break and it's so frustrating. I guess there's not really a point to writing this except for that it's helping with the knot in my belly — I feel like I'm on the brink of something new but I'm not quite sure what it is yet and it's killing me. Bleh.

I cannot stop listening to Ellie Goulding again. I'm going to go drink some Earl Grey then get drunk. I may write again later.

I love you,
Loch.

still so young

Things I like too much right now

coffee

hummus

marlboros

too short shorts

rainbow hair colors

walking everywhere

mason jar glasses

political fiction

Irish whisky

floral prints

politico

I swear to god I'm never the same person for more than a month at a time, sometimes I can't keep up with myself.

-Loch

I'm too alive

The eyes on my cat alarm clock are following me around my room and I am aware now more than ever that there's no one in my bed tonight. It's almost the new semester which means things are going to change again, like they always change at the beginning of the school year, and to be honest, I'm getting a little impatient. It's like I'm getting cabin fever but I don't know where I'm trapped or by what. Hopefully I haven't sleep-talked too much this weekend.

Last night I cuddle and today I'm in a frenzy. How pathetic am I?
I wish I had more to say, and that I wrote more often like I used to. Happy August.

I really hope you look at me like you did yesterday, tomorrow.

Here's a picture of my awkward cat,

Much love always,
Loch.

national anthem

Journalist Loch is in there somewhere, fighting to get out. I want an excuse to use my voice recorder again.

-Loch

you hate being alone

Sorry I was gone for so long.

Sucking on a marlboro
tan thighs from frayed denim
hair styled good from grunge,
blown wild by wind,
no semblance of sequence.
Days spent hardly justifying 
nights spent only self-indicting,
whisky stains over gross mistakes
littering laundry across speckled floor.
Soft spoken leaned against balcony bars,
disappointment glittered sarcastic,
I'm sorry.

Starting another blog was silly, this will always be my first baby.
Love you,
Loch.