jonathan

John is a twenty-year-old boy (still a boy, right?) who walks behind the group when the path isn't big enough, who randomly bites his friends, who gets cut off in the conversation, who wins fake arguments while taking shower, who eats eggs for breakfast, who eats too much apple and chips (or fries, whatever you call them.). He speaks French, yes---French fries and French toasts. He believes he and his laptop share common traits, like, being slow and having difficulty in completing basic tasks. Oh, and people notice his John's apple, a lot. Also, he tends to say lots of nonsense. (See above)

Okay, let's stop this third-person crap.

SELF PROMOTION ALERT

I may not be as good as some writers out there, but I still try. Here are my works:

• THEN YOU ARE GONE (if you love making yourself cry over depressed boys)

• MIDNIGHT THOUGHTS (if you love amateurish poetry)

• ICARUS (coming soon)

I excuse my horrible self-porno. Um, I mean, self-promo. 

And, before I end this all, I want to tell you: value your life. Love yourself. Take pictures. Pocket memories. Tell people you love them. Talk to random strangers. Do things you're afraid to do. So when the time comes, you'll leave the Earth not regretting that you wasted your days worrying and letting people step on you. 

Make your life the best story in this world.

You only have one.

PS. Check out my reading lists.
 #BreakStereotypes #FreeLGBTQ+ #NoMoreBullying #FreeTheBoy

Twitter | @johnschorwinson
Instagram | @johnschorwinson_
Email | alexschorwinson@yahoo.com 

If you're reading this, leave a heart (❤) on my message board. I will appreciate it.

(Albums worth listening to: Blonde. Melodrama. Art Artangels. PANG. Oil of Every Pearl's Un-Insides. Set My Heart on Fire Immediately. To Pimp a Butterfly. Random Access Memories. Charli. LP1. EMOTION. 1989. ARTPOP. Trench. Vulnicura. Norman F*cking Rockwell! Blackstar.)