00:37, 30 December 2013

 

I hate looking at myself and realizing that I don’t like what I see. I hate looking back at things I did and wondering why I was like that.

 Every day there’s something wrong. Just one trivial thing that can make me unhappy for just a moment. It’s like it’s not even possible to have one day without one bad feeling.

 

 

You sat in my car while I drove you home

I was so worried you would be put off by

the mess my mess

or the music I played

or that my profile facing you wasn’t flattering 

so I don’t remember anything you said

or when you held my hand.

 

 

 

All relationships are doomed. If you emotionally undress in front of someone, they will pour acid on your shivering skin and leave you to die.

 

I either eat too much or starve myself. Sleep for 14 hours or have insomniac nights. Fall in love very hard or hate passionately. I don’t know what grey is. I never did.

 

The sun stopped shining for me is all. The whole story is: I am sad. I am sad all the time and the sadness is so heavy that I can’t get away from it. Not ever.

 

I never realized what a big deal that was. How amazing it is to find someone who wants to hear about all the things that go on in your head.

 

There is an indescribable feeling that comes from being desperately in love with a song.

 

One of the greatest weaknesses in most of us is our lack of faith in ourselves. One of our common failings is to depreciate our tremendous worth.

 

I wrote a poem about it, and then threw it away, because that’s the last thing I need right now: More words dedicated to people who will never dedicate a single thing to me.

 

Loneliness does not come from having no people around you, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to you

 

 

You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view – until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.

 

 

 

“Cutting people from your life does not mean you hate them, it simply means, you respect yourself.

 

The people that really matter in life are the ones who love you for the person you’ve been, the person you’re becoming, and the person you will be.

 

everyone you idolize wakes up scared to be themselves sometimes.

 

 

Sometimes I have the strangest feeling about you. Especially when you are near me as you are now. It feels as though I had a string tied here under my left rib where my heart is, tightly knotted to you in a similar fashion. And when you go, I am afraid that this cord will be snapped, and I shall bleed inwardly.

 

You’re either the happiest sad person I know,

or the saddest happy person.

And the really sad part,

is that I can’t figure it out.

 

You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering.

22:47, 22 December 2013

 

Sometimes when you’re young, you think nothing can hurt you – it’s like being invincible. Your whole life is ahead of you when you make big plans to find your perfect patch, the one who completes you. But as you get older you realize it’s not always that easy. It’s not until the end of your life that you realize the plans you made were simply plans. But, at the end when you’re looking back instead of forward, you want to believe that you made the most of what life gave you; you want to believe that you’re leaving something good behind; you want it all to have mattered. 

 

Just because you’re unhappy doesn’t mean you can’t laugh at funny things and marvel at beautiful things and enjoy happy moments. You can still do happy things even if you are unhappy.

 

It’s easy to feel uncared for when people aren’t able to communicate and connect with you in the way you need. And it’s so hard not to internalize that silence as a reflection on your worth. But the truth is that the way other people operate is not about you. Most people are so caught up in their own responsibilities, struggles, and anxiety that the thought of asking someone else how they’re doing doesn’t even cross their mind. They aren’t inherently bad or uncaring — they’re just busy and self-focused. And that’s okay. It’s not evidence of some fundamental failing on your part. It doesn’t make you unloveable or invisible. It just means that those people aren’t very good at looking beyond their own world. But the fact that you are — that despite the darkness you feel, you have the ability to share your love and light with others — is a strength. Your work isn’t to change who you are; it’s to find people who are able to give you the connection you need. Because despite what you feel, you are not too much. You are not too sensitive or too needy. You are thoughtful and empathetic. You are compassionate and kind. And with or without anyone’s acknowledgment or affection, you are enough. 

 

Something else is hurting you – that’s why you need pot or whiskey, or screaming music turned so fucking loud you can’t think.

 

All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that’s the tragedy of living.

 

I don’t

even know

what we talk about

 

I just listen

to the sound of his voice

and to his laugh

 

and to the sound

of him listening 

to me.

 

 

Hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you.

 

They say every atom in our bodies was once a part of a star. Maybe I’m not leaving, maybe I’m going home.

 

Drugs may kill you, but they’ll never break your heart.

 

I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. It seems that I am always in a state of wishing and rarely in a state of contentment.

 

I don’t have the passion anymore, and so remember, it’s better to burn out than to fade away.

 

But then I realized I was holding onto something that didn’t exist anymore. That the person I missed didn’t exist anymore. People change. The things we like and dislike change. And we could wish all day long that they didn’t, but they always will.

 

 

It’s a lot easier to be angry at someone than it is to tell them you’re hurt.

 

 

 

Inside us there is a word we cannot pronounce and that is who we are.

 

Always be yourself, express yourself, have faith in yourself, do not go out and look for a successful personality and duplicate it.

 

Tou know what? Fuck the saying “no one will love you until you love yourself.” that’s bullshit. Loving yourself is fucking difficult. Fuck that saying because you could totally hate yourself but someone else could find you completely breathtaking. Just because you don’t love yourself doesn’t mean someone won’t want to show you what there is to love. 

 

So do it. Decide. Is this the life you want to live? Is this the person you want to love? Is this the best you can be? Can you be stronger? Kinder? More compassionate? Decide. Breathe in. Breathe out and decide.

 

I think it’s intoxicating when somebody is so unapologetically who they are.

 

My life is made up of ‘I’m sorry’. I feel like I have to apologize to people, to things, to life itself. It’s like, ‘I’m sorry to be here’. I don’t want to disturb anyone.

 

I sit before flowers
hoping they will train me in the art
of opening up.

I stand on mountain tops believing
that avalanches will teach me to let go.

I know
nothing

but I am here to learn.

 

The greatest prison that people live in is the fear of what other people think.

 

I am tired of
reaching into myself
and pulling out pieces
of you.

 

you were killing me but

i kissed you anyway

 

I felt my heart fall

out of my chest

every time I saw you

and my lungs

collapsed in on

themselves whenever

we touched

and my throat closed

up when I heard you

laugh.

 

I write because you exist.

 

I saw him the other day. His arms around another girl, his eyes when met with mine – were slow in recognition.

 

I wonder if he remembers what I once told him.

I will love you forever.

He had smiled at me sadly before giving his reply.

But I am so afraid you may one day stop.

 

Now all these years later, I am the one who is afraid. Because I love him, I still do. I haven’t stopped. I don’t think I can. I don’t think I ever will. 

 

I’d choose you. Every goddamned time.

 

you have only 
seen yourself 
two times

taking a picture 
and looking at the
image and staring 
in the mirror and
looking at your 
reflection

you don’t get to see 
the way your eyes 
light up when you talk
about something 
you love

and you can never 
see how beautiful 
you look when you
really smile

it’s really is kinda 
sad that never
actually seen yourself

but I can promise you 
I will be here everyday
to tell you what i see

 

My eyelids are heavy,
but my thoughts are heavier.

 

Dearest,
I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can’t concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t think two people could have been happier ’til this terrible disease came. I can’t fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can’t even write this properly. I can’t read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can’t go on spoiling your life any longer. I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been. 
V.

 

Two things prevent us from happiness; living in the past and observing others.

 

If someone tells you you’re beautiful, you tell them they are too. If someone says they love you, decide if they mean it before you say it in return. If a boy tells you he’d date you if you didn’t smoke, light a cigarette and walk away. If your mother screams at you because she’s had a bad day, close your eyes and leave her to her anger. If last nights lover doesn’t call you back, do not cry and blame yourself.

 

I am terrified of this dark thing that sleeps inside me.

 

None of us really changes over time. We only become more fully what we are.

 

You can’t just replace someone you care about with some other random person.

00:19, 8 December 2013

 

I am convinced that different people awaken different beasts in you.

 

Life is a vacation from two eternities, who wants to waste those precious years worrying about what happens when you get back to forever?

 

 

 

My heart hurts when I think of all the things I haven’t done.

 

Love is never easy when it hides in the shadows of guilty kisses and hands secretly held.

 

 

My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss.

 

 

We must bring our own light to the darkness. Nobody else is going to do it for us.

 

Hell is
loving you in my sleep
and waking up alone.

 

I’ve had so many knives stuck into me, when they hand me a flower I can’t quite make out what it is. It takes time.

 

I’m only quiet because I’m worried that if you push me too far, one day I will open my mouth and I will scream so loudly, it will shatter and break the whole world.

 

The best kind of people are the ones that come into your life, and make you see the sun where you once saw clouds. The people that believe in you so much, you start to believe in you too. The people that love you, simply for being you. The once in a lifetime kind of people.

 

Maybe you just have to live for the small things, like being called pretty or someone picking up the pen you dropped or laughing so hard that your stomach hurts. Maybe that’s all that really matters at the end of the day.

 

 

 

 

Leaving is not enough, you must stay gone. Don’t lose too much weight. Stupid girls are always trying to disappear as revenge. And you are not stupid. You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand?

 

 

I heard an unhappy ending, it sort of sounds like you leaving.

 

In a sense, I’m the one who ruined me.
I did it myself.

 

 

 

The worst is having a dream where someone loves you and you can practically feel them touching you and it feels so real and then you wake up and it’s like the life is being sucked out of you and the happiness just drains out of your body and you feel empty again.

 

 

 

You can’t just make me different and then leave.

 

Life is unfair. You put someone first who puts you second. You study your ass off for a final only to get a C. You give 110% to someone in a relationship who only gives 40%. You’re there for a best friend at 3:00am and the next day they don’t pick up their phone. It seems like you’re giving everyone everything, and they’re just walking away with it.

 

When someone is crying, of course, the noble thing to do is to comfort them. But if someone is trying to hide their tears, it may also be noble to pretend you do not notice them.

 

When you do something noble and beautiful and nobody notices, do not be sad. For the sun every morning is a beautiful spectacle and yet most of the audience still sleeps.

 

But I believe good things happen everyday. I believe good things happen even when bad things happen. And I believe that on a happy day like today, we can still feel a little sad, and that’s life, isn’t it?

 

And I remember when I met him, it was so clear that he was the only one for me.
We both knew it, right away. And as the years went on, things got more difficult – we were faced with more challenges. I begged him to stay. Try to remember what we had at the beginning. He was charismatic, magnetic, electric and everybody knew it. When he walked in every woman’s head turned, everyone stood up to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn’t contain himself. I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him.

 

Finding you was like coming home.

But regret will not change it.

22:24, 1 December 2013

 

You don’t forget the face of the person who was your last hope.

 

But in the end, everyone turns into the person they swore they’d never become. 

 

The sadness will last forever.

 

I am gone quite mad with the knowledge of accepting the overwhelming number of things I can never know, places I can never go, and people I can never be.

 

We think we’re made of numbers. Percentages on tests, pounds on a scale, likes on a photo, price tags on clothes. But we’re not. We are made of love and happiness and they way we laugh. We’re made of good memories and late nights and past-curfews. We have more substance than numbers.

 

Sometimes love isn’t enough. And if it’s not enough, what good is it?

 

My point is, there are a lot of people in the world. No one ever sees everything the same way you do; it just doesn’t happen. So when you find one person who gets a couple of things, especially if they’re important ones… you might as well hold on to them. You know?

 

Why put time and effort into saying mean things to someone you don’t like and tearing them down when you could spend that time saying good things to some one you do like and making them feel good and happy?

 

 

No one ever tells you how hard it is to overcome the addiction of destroying yourself.

 

 

A fight is going on inside me. It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil. He is anger, sorrow, regret, envy, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego. The other is good. He is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith. The same fight is going on inside you. and inside of every other person, too. And the wolf you feed, will be the one that wins.

 

 

I hope that one day you buy every pretty dress you’ve ever wanted. I hope that you wear them and dance in the summer and laugh. I hope you smile at all the little things, like flowers, and the laughter of children. I hope you get that tattoo you’ve always wanted. I hope you go to Paris and every single state in the US. I hope you never stop singing – even when people tell you that you can’t. I hope you stop beating yourself up about everything that’s out of your control. I hope you have the guts to speak up when something is important to you. I hope you step out of your comfort zone. I hope you forget about your scars and learn to be happy. 

 

 

All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that’s the tragedy of living.

 

Because I am not the type of 
person someone falls in love with.

 

Usually when we hear or read something new, we just compare it to our own ideas. If it is the same, we accept it and say that it is correct. If it is not, we say it is incorrect. In either case, we learn nothing.

 

Your flaws are perfect for the heart that is meant to love you.

 

What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday and you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are – underneath the year that makes you eleven.

Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mamas lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day, when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s ok.

Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That’s how being eleven years old is. You don’t feel eleven. Not right away. If takes a few day, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say eleven when they ask you.

 

waking up next to you
is my favourite thing
in the world.
you think you look disgusting
and i know you feel grotty
because i do too
but seeing you look
so raw
and
so real
(and so beautiful)
only proves to me
that i’m not still
trapped in a beautiful
dream from the
night
before.

 

…I’m someone who’s mostly dead inside but still has a little hope for something extraordinary, which, as I said, is the worst breed of human, because it means I know everything is bullshit, but that I secretly hope for the day when it might not be.

 

People think they know you. They think they know how you’re handling a situation. But the truth is no one knows. No one knows what happens after you leave them, when you’re lying in bed or sitting over your breakfast alone and all you want to do is cry or scream. They don’t know what’s going on inside your head—the mind-numbing cocktail of anger and sadness and guilt. This isn’t their fault. They just don’t know. And so they pretend and they say you’re doing great when you’re really not. And this makes everyone feel better. Everybody but you.