I make mistakes just like anyone else. I sometimes get tossed around in an abyss of emotions, but I always come out learning something new. I've been beat up, bruised, and broken more times than I can recall, but I'm making myself whole again, and nothing can come in between me and my goals. I'm 18, currently residing in Alabama, with a head full of doubt, and a heart full of dreams, though I'm still learning to separate the two. I'm Peyton, and I'm making plans.

Why is it that I give so much to people who only exploit me for their own benefit, success, and happiness? All the while I suffer and beat myself up for feeling trapped and incapable of standing on my own two feet. I will never, repeat NEVER, become an accessory to someone else’s life again. It’s time I recognize my own self-worth and rid myself of every last and goddamn leech that I see around me. To hell with you all. 

Posted 6 months ago with 4 notes
In the morning, through the window shade on Flickr.Via Flickr:When the light pressed up against your shoulderblade
I could see what you were reading
All the glory that the Lord has made
And the complications you could do without,When I kissed you on the mouth
Double exposure, Canon 50mm f/1.4
Posted 1 year ago with 31 notes
96/365 Birthday preparation by benman31 on Flickr.
Posted 1 year ago with 3 notes

It’s strangely surreal reminiscing on the dreams of my youth that I’ve now long lost sight of and have begun to perceive so differently. Innocent dreams that were once practical and full of promise, now ever fleeting as I grow and mature into my 20-year-old self who’s steadily changing and shifting into different directions, yearning for both fulfillment and happiness. I ask myself: What will I make of my future? Will I be successful? Will I leave my mark? Achieve great undertakings? These questions prod my mind daily and leave me feeling both eager and anxious (but mostly anxious) for the future. It’s unfair how dreams become so deceptive as an adult, how everything suddenly becomes a sign, a foreshadow of the future, a reason to lament and ponder obsessively. I miss the dreams of my youth and their immunity to misfortune and defeat. I miss that sense of purity and the promise of reward. It certainly has become a battle of idealism and realism for me these days.

Then again, I guess we all grow up a little too fast.


To quote Shakespeare:

True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air


Posted 1 year ago with 1 note

Somewhere between finding myself and falling into a rut I lost my ability to be a part of things in life. I raised the drawbridge of my mental self. I barricaded myself deep in the depths of my mind. I built a moat between myself and the world. 

But there’s the nights. Those exhilarating, lively nights that come so little during the year. I seize the opportunity to engage in conversations with complete strangers, I loosen myself and come back to life. I allow myself to be part of something.

Then it’s all gone.

Reality sinks in.

My social circle narrows.

I brood.

I sink.

I give up.

I wish I didn’t constantly feel at war with myself. I wish I could blend in, expand my social circle, spread out, live. But instead I dwell in the confines of my head.

Does anyone understand?

Posted 1 year ago with 3 notes
A Strange Dream on Flickr.
Posted 1 year ago with 17 notes
untitled by allisonwells on Flickr.
Posted 1 year ago with 15 notes
Starry Night by keyana tea on Flickr.
Posted 1 year ago with 20 notes
Best of British by Jade Berry on Flickr.
Posted 1 year ago with 2 notes
slow burning on Flickr.
Posted 1 year ago with 271 notes