23:42, 23 June 2014

 

 

I am tangling my fists in his hair

as you whisper sweet things in her ear

i am sinking my teeth into the

sweet soft skin of his neck

while you laugh about something

that she said

i am drawing a deep breath, i am

drowning in his scent, i am a heart

beating so hard it almost feels like

this means anything

you are kissing her gently, you

are holding her tightly, you are

wrapping your body around hers

trying to keep the warmth in

i wonder if she knows

how lucky

she is

i might not sleep alone often

but i never sleep well

seeing you be so in love with her

has taught me so much of hell

im passing myself around just to feel an ounce of the love you give her.

 

I don’t love you anymore.

Since when?

Now.

 

 

I want to kiss him.

Not because I want to feel the softness of his fair lips or the warmth of his breath as he exhales against me.

I want to kiss him because I can’t think of any other way to fully express the beauty that he is. I want him to know that I see him as perfect. That he is perfect.

 

Nobody drinks a bottle of vodka for fun, and that’s a damn fact.

 

After you, hell should be easy.

 

Be with someone who you don’t have to hide from, in any way. Whether it’s your morning face before you’ve put any make up on, an embarrassing story about something that happened on your way home, or an ambition you’ve had since you were six years old… make sure you end up with someone who listens to and accepts all of it, and still loves you. A person you can tell your whole life to is a person worth spending a life with.

 

My mom taught me something about relationships when I was growing up. She told me to never be the one to love the other person more. I always thought that was odd. That was until I saw how my mom loved my dad more and let him leave bruises on her skin. That was until I found my best friend drunk, bleeding on her bathroom floor, because the boy she loved more broke her heart and left. That’s why when I start to fall I catch myself. I don’t want to be the one to love more because I’ve seen what that does to people. Oh, but god do I love you more.

 

Two people who were once very close can without blame or grand betrayal become strangers. Perhaps this is the saddest thing in the world.

 

If you want to kill yourself, kill what you don’t like. I had an old self that I killed. You can kill yourself too, but that doesn’t mean you got to stop living.

 

I can see yellow caution tape inside
your eyes. Your stare pushes 
all the people who get near you away. 
Your memories are a gun and 
they constantly aim at the beautiful
thoughts you have. 
There are bloodstains left from the dead
thoughts all over your mind. 
You classify yourself as a crime scene 
with a heartbeat.
But I am not going to be shunned away 
because you deserve to know that your 
life carries the sun, the moon, the stars,
and the entire solar system. 
I am willing to tear the caution tape 
stuck in your eyes. 
I am willing to remove the bullets 
from the guns of memories in your mind. 
I am willing to clean the bloodstains 
that cover your mind entirely. 
You are not a crime scene, and if you
believe you are I am willing to prove 
to you that you are not.

 

I’ve been hurt so bad and I still love so hard. I admire my heart for that.

 

If you’re gonna bail, bail early. This applies to relationships, college classes, and sledding.

 

There’s so much more to life than what you’re feeling now.

 

Have you ever just looked at someone and thought,

“holy shit, i really love you”?

They’re just talking

or humming

or watching a movie

a reading a book

or laughing or something,

and there’s something about them in that moment – 

their body is alive

there’s a light in there eyes,

something that makes you think “i just really love you”

 

I keep saying wait just one more day, but days slowly drift away. And I can hold on to the memories but they won’t hold me in the same way as you.

 

I won’t glorify or romanticize heartbreak, for me it was a kind of death and I was forced to keep living.

 

I was fifteen, thinking about unzipping my veins.

 

When you love something, you don’t threaten it. You don’t punish it. You fight for it. You take care of it. You put it first.

 

Emotions are supposed to be raw, ugly, brutal…you don’t want someone to ‘sorta’ love you. You want that love to be a bursting flame, not a candle.

 

 

the world is a carnival
made from teeth and alligator bones
there are pencil shavings inside my writs,
mountains are bleeding crystal ink,
wait until the day the sky cracks and
pastel worms illuminate your soul,
people keep forgetting that just because
you have purple vision and birds in
your mouth doesn’t mean you’re living,
because i have moon rocks caved
into my ankles and you still left me

 

Will you love me in December as you do in May?

 

See, when you meet someone

for the first time, 
you don’t really imagine that they would 
turn out to be someone important to you.
You don’t really assume that 
when you first learn someone’s name
that after awhile you would begin to really 
get to know them inside and out,
or how you begin to pick up their habits,
and start talking like them,
or finishing the food off their plates
you don’t really see these things
happening, when you first meet someone

Without really expecting it, this someone
who was only just a stranger to you before,
can all of a sudden mean so much more,
can become someone so special,
and someone you can’t see yourself
living without.

 

The worst thing about being lied to is simply knowing you weren’t worth the truth.

 

 

There are two reasons why people don’t talk about things; either it doesn’t mean anything to them, or it means everything.

 

 

You have to learn how to dance alone,
How to stand in the corner without looking like you need company,
Make yourself smile when you meet your gaze in the mirror after three cups of coffee,
Don’t count how many friends you have, count the birds outside your window and marvel at their song, 
Notice that they don’t sound any quieter when their companion leaves.
Stop acting like it’s the end of the world because you’re at home on a Friday night,
There will always be a shortage of people, there will never be
Less of you.

 

When I lost him, I finally realized how much I loved him.
But by then, it was to late.

 

I look at you, and I just love you, and it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you.

 

Why do you put your self esteem in the hands of complete strangers?

 

I didn’t become heartless , I just became smarter. My happiness will not depend on someone else . Not anymore

 

I’m so lucky to be alive at the same time as you.

 

You matter as much as the things that matter to you. And I got so backwards trying to matter to him. All this time, there were real things to care about: real, good people who care about me, and this place. It’s so easy to get stuck. You just get caught in being something, being special or cool or whatever, to the point where you don’t even know why you need it; you just think you do.

 

That always seemed so ridiculous to me, that people want to be around someone because they’re pretty. It’s like picking your breakfast cereals based on colour instead of taste.

 

Thomas Edison’s last words were “It’s very beautiful over there”. I don’t know where there is, but I believe it’s somewhere, and I hope it’s beautiful.

 

The marks humans leave are too often scars.

 

22:41, 26th May 2014

 

 

 

 

When you left, my heart went missing. I’ve been looking for it in drugs and boys who don’t know my name

 

 

 

I don’t hate you, I hate what you did to me.

 

 

 

I didn’t like my name until you said it.

 

I wonder whose arms would I run and fall into if I were drunk in a room with everyone I have ever loved.

 

…and you drink a little too much and try a little too hard. And you go home to a cold bed and think, ‘That was fine’. And your life is a long line of fine.

 

I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.

 

It’s so fucking twisted, you know. This whole “love” thing. Like really? You fall in love and you literally fall. You crash to the ground and I swear to god all your bones break. You’re fucking shattered but you don’t notice because you’ve got this beautiful boy whispering in your ear and kissing your neck and nothing else matters. But then he leaves and suddenly you feel it. You feel everything. And you’re hysterically crying in your car at 4 in the morning in some empty parking lot because it’s the only place that doesn’t taste like him and you’re trying to hold your bones together but his old t-shirts don’t work as a cast, wrapping them around your chest won’t fix the craters in your ribs. Nothing stops the aching.

 

 

You go to sleep alone
and wake up next to 
an empty space. 
You stare blankly at the ceiling,
wondering where it all went wrong. 
So this is how to miss someone. 
This is how to ache until 
you forget how to be human. 
There are no tears,
nothing but your breaths.

 

I need someone who understands not someone who looks at me like I’m hurt.

 

 

I took seventeen shots of vodka and I’m trying to forget your name but mine was the only name I forgot and sober or drunk you’re the only thing on my mind.

 

If you go,
I don’t think I’ll write 
anything ever again.
I won’t eat
I won’t speak
I’ll waste away,
wishing I knew what to say
to make you stay.

 

Day 14 4:18 AM
Sometimes I think I’m crazy. My mother tells me that there’s nothing wrong with me and hands me another pill. I think I’m crazy.

Day 36 5:16 AM
I’m always on the verge of falling apart. I feel my bones getting looser and looser and separating from my joints until the littlest thing makes me snap. And oh god I snap.

Day 36 5:20 AM
And then I scream and pull at my hair. But sometimes I don’t even recognize the voice pouring out of my mouth. I hear it in my ears and it sounds so desperate and panicked and I know it can’t be me because I haven’t felt anything in 16 days. And I can’t feel my hands grabbing at my head but I know that they are.

Day 91 2:01 AM
Sometimes I think I’m crazy. My mother tells me that I just haven’t learned to live without you yet. I think I hate you.

 

Men need to objectify and conquer. They see what they want to see. Women, however, can see into the soul of a person.

 

 

I think the hardest person to love is yourself.

 

Lover? I don’t know. I don’t know if she loves me. I don’t know if I love her. All I can say is, she’s the one I think about. All the time. She’s the voice I want to hear. She’s the face I hope to see.

 

22:51, 11th May 2014

 

Today in science we learned that you can never gain cold, you can only have an absence of heat; and it made me think that maybe hatred doesn’t exist, and there’s only an absence of love.

 

If you have ever had that feeling of loneliness, of being an outsider, it never quite leaves you. You can be happy or successful or whatever, but that thing still stays within you.

 

And what if you could go back in time and take all those hours of pain and darkness and replace them with something better?

 

I can’t want you anymore. It’s killing me.

 

I think once you’ve thought about how a person sleeps, how they’d feel pressed up against your back, or your head on their chest, how compatible your bodies would be in the same space of a bed — once you’ve thought about that, you’re fucked.

You think ‘Okay, I get it, I’m prepared for the worst’, but you hold out that small hope, see, and that’s what fucks you up. That’s what kills you.

 

 

 

My problem is that I fall in love with words, rather than actions. I fall in love with ideas and thoughts, instead of reality. And it will be the death of me.

 

Before I met him, I would dance in the shower. When he was in my life, I would think about showering with him. After he left, I would sit on the ground in the shower and cry. When I got over him, I showered so quickly there was no time for dancing, fantasies or tears. Someone can invade the smallest parts of your life, you won’t even realize it until you dance in the shower again and wonder why you ever stopped.

 

People, I have discovered, are layers and layers of secrets. You believe you know them, that you understand them, but their motives are always hidden from you, buried in their own hearts. You will never know them, but sometimes you decide to trust them.

 

People are rivers, always ready to move from one state of being into another. It is not fair, to treat people as if they are finished beings. Everyone is always becoming and unbecoming.

 

All I wanted was for somebody to love me

and mean it.

But instead I got beautiful strangers

teaching me that if you say lust enough times

it starts to sound like

love.

 

The universe is made up of experiences that are designed to burn out your attachment, your clinging, to pleasure, to pain, to fear, to all of it. And as long as there is a place where you’re vulnerable, the universe will find a way to confront you with it.

 

I’ve been trying to remind myself that it’s ok to be alone sometimes. I don’t need somebody to hold me.

 

I have thoughts in my head that would make you cry and I have carved them in to every wall on my body and every inch in my soul.

 

I’m just so tired and scared and sad because you don’t see me the way I see you and you’re the humming in my veins while I’m just the dust on your fingertips.

 

 

 

Maybe I didn’t fucking achieve straight A’s, but guess what? I made it to 2014 alive and if that isn’t a fucking achievement then I don’t know what is.

 

 

I’ve been sitting here thinking about all the things I want to apologise to you for. All the pain we caused each other. Everything I put on you. Everything I needed you to be or needed you to say. I’m sorry for that.

 

Don’t try to be better than someone else, be better than yourself.

 

Having a low opinion of yourself is not modesty. It’s self-destruction.

 

Do you think God stays in heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he has created.

 

Stop beating yourself up. You are a work in progress – which means you get there a little at a time, not all at once.

 

Live for yourself. Breathe for yourself. Do everything in your life for nobody but you. This is your life. This is it.

22:39, 7th May 2014

 

I hope I look beautiful enough for you, 

I hope I glow in your eyes.

I hope you fall asleep holding your pillow,

wishing it was me.

 

If opening your eyes, or getting out of bed, or holding a spoon, or combing your hair is the daunting Mount Everest you climb today, that is okay.

 

People aren’t supposed to look back. I’m certainly not going to do it anymore.

 

Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.

 

My mother warned me about swallowing pills or sticking needles filled with things that make my head spin into my skin. So I stayed away from the drugs that kill, but she never told me that boys with pretty eyes who kiss you till your lungs give out can kill you too.

 

 

You made flowers grow in my lungs, and, although they are beautiful, I can’t fucking breathe.

 

 

I have not stopped thinking about kissing you. Your mouth has consumed my thoughts, and the idea I may meet it once again is enough to kill me. The ever so taunting memory of your lips pressed to mine continues to play in my head. I have lost all cravings except to feel the soft curve of your lips against mine once again. I only dream of you and it seems I am going mad. I want you back. I am going mad.

 

How fascinating it is that there are millions of people all over the world who are wide awake at 4 am missing someone. And there are millions of people sound asleep at 4 am, with no idea that they’re being missed.

 

Life is funny sometimes. It can push pretty hard, but if you look close enough, you can find hope in the words of children, in the bars of the song and in the eyes of someone you love. And if you’re lucky, I mean if you’re the luckiest person on this entire planet, the person you love decides to love you back. 

 

In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.

 

I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day, and I believe in miracles.

 

Try not to feel jealous about things, or people or places. It’s toxic. Just keep living. You will find your happiness.

 

I don’t love studying. I hate studying. I like learning. Learning is beautiful.

 

Forgive yourself for the decisions you have made,
the ones you still call mistakes when you tuck them in at night.

And know this.

Know you are the type of woman
who is looking for a place to call yours.

Let the statues crumble.
You have always been the place.

You are a woman who can build it yourself.
You were born to build.

 

Be happy for no reason, like a child. If you are happy for a reason, you’re in trouble, because that reason can be taken from you.

 

I’ve stopped being sorry for all my soft. I won’t apologize because I miss you, or because I said it, or because I text you first, or again. I think everyone spends too much time trying to close themselves off. I don’t want to be cool or indifferent, I want to be honest.

 

I said I would go to hell for you, but I didn’t expect you to leave me there.

 

I hate endings. Just detest them. Beginnings are definitely the most exciting, middles are perplexing and endings are a disaster. … The temptation towards resolution, towards wrapping up the package, seems to me a terrible trap. Why not be more honest with the moment? The most authentic endings are the ones which are already revolving towards another beginning. That’s genius.

 

Far too many people are looking for the right person, instead of trying to be the right person.

 

You ask how I am and I say that I’m good with tears on my cheeks and you ask how my day was and I say it was good with blood on my skin and I know that you don’t really care so I don’t say a word and you walk away and I wish I could shout and tell you I’m not but I sit and I break and you don’t look back.

10:29, 19 April 2014

 

I exist in two places:
here and where you are.

 

 

I made room for you in my heart/and when you departed you broke my ribs/now bone fragments are lodged in my lungs/and each breath I’ve taken since that day have been agony.

 

You met me at a very strange time in my life when I didn’t want to be saved when all I wanted was to be buried alive and I don’t know how but you made me want to save myself and that’s how I knew you were dangerous.

 

Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.

 

You are most powerful when you are most silent. People never expect silence. They expect words, motion, defense, offense, back and forth. They expect to leap into the fray. They are ready, fists up, words hanging leaping from their mouths. Silence? No.

 

The fucking thought of you with somebody else, I don’t like that.

I never enjoy anything.

I’m always waiting for whatever’s next.

I think everyone’s like that,

Living life in fast forward,

Never stopping to enjoy the moment,

Busy trying to rush through everything.

So we can get on with whatever we’re really supposed to be

doing with our lives.

I get these flashes of clarity.

Brilliant clarity.

Where for a second I stop and think, “Wait. This is it. This is my

life. I better slow down and enjoy it, because one day we are all

going to end up in the ground and that’ll be it. We’ll be gone.”

 

He loved her, of course, but better than that, he chose her, day after day. Choice: that was the thing.

 

I enjoy controlled loneliness. I like wandering around the city alone. I’m not afraid of coming back to an empty flat and lying down in an empty bed. I’m afraid of having no one to miss, of having no one to love.

 

If you don’t like where you are, move on. You are not a tree.

 

Do not be fragile.

Do not let the darkness leak out of your skin.

Do not let people know about the monsters that crawl out of your mouth at night.

 

I just want someone who won’t get annoyed when I text them six times or in all caps. Someone I can go on long drives with and can sing along to the radio with. Someone I can eat pizza with at 2am and kiss at 6pm. Someone who chooses me everyday and never thinks twice about it.

 

We must be our own before we can be another’s.

 

 

It isn’t fair that I can be lying here thinking of you and you can be lying there thinking of someone else.

 

 

 

 

Not everything happens for a reason. Sometimes life just sucks.

 

How to kill someone;
Hold their hand and then never touch their skin again,
See them nearly everyday and pretend they don’t exist,
Act like everything you ever said to them was a lie.

 

 

Body image means nothing. Your body is merely just a seatbelt in the car. Your body is here to protect you. You choose the direction you go, and your body will not hold you back. Only you can hold yourself back. 

12:01, 11 April 2014

 

If there’s a thing I’ve learned in my life it’s to not be afraid of the responsibility that comes with caring for other people. What we do for love: those things endure. Even if the people you do them for don’t.

 

The universe loves you so much. You’re a goddamn star. You’re gonna be okay. Please be good to yourself.

 

There is no pretending; I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there’s a life after that, I’ll love you then.

 

You only lose what you cling to.

 

When our hands finally met, everything that needed to be said, was said.

 

For each person there is a sentence—a series of words—which has the power to destroy them.

 

You know it’s never fifty-fifty in a relationship. It’s always seventy-thirty, or sixty-forty. Someone falls in love first. Someone puts someone else up on a pedestal. Someone works very hard to keep things going smoothly; someone else just sails along for the ride.

 

You punish yourself for being yourself.

 

It’s okay that you chose her. We always choose the wrong people for ourselves. After all I chose you.

 

 

Yes, there are monsters, and it’s okay to be afraid of them. But it’s not okay to let them win. And it’s not okay to be one. 

 

 

I can’t help but to notice how draining a broken heart is. You don’t want to move. It makes you so tired, physically and emotionally, but yet never tired enough to let you sleep. And home isn’t comforting.

 

 

 

Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn’t have to be a romantic walk in the park, spring at its most spectacular moment, flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery smoothly transferring you into another world. It doesn’t have to be a walk during which you’ll have multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings no other brain ever managed to encounter. Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don’t find meaning but “steal” some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.

 

You drink about it, smoke about it, don’t talk about it. 

 

You sat in my car while I drove you home

I was so worried you’d be put off by 

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.

 

 

You kiss me with your mouth wide open like you’re not afraid of swallowing poison. I taste the good and bad in you and want them both. We call this bravery.

 

People get drunk
They hook up with the wrong person
And pretend to be okay
People act tough
And get mad

 

People will do anything to distract their heart. 
They will do anything to distract it from missing someone.

 

so now you’re about to turn twenty and the world hasn’t gotten any bigger for you. you’re untouched, unloved, unprepared. your parents still pay for your gas. your friends all have internships. one of them even got cast to be in a movie. you’ve got all this talent that you don’t know how to share. you just want to fuck someone, anyone, to feel a little less like an island. the man at the McDonald’s drive-thru held both sides of your hand when he handed you your change and you cried the entire way home. skin burns. you’re about to turn twenty and you feel like you’re fifteen. you sleep for fourteen hours and still need a nap. the world is shrinking one empty heartache at a time.
you’re scared you’ll never find anyone to love you, not even well. you’ll settle for anything.
don’t.
you’re about to turn twenty and they never remind you how young that is. falling in love does not make you grow up, heartbreak does, and there is more than one way to fall apart. you’re about to turn twenty and it’s okay if you aren’t ready. it’s okay if you aren’t ready. it’s okay.

 

After a while, you learn the difference between holding a hand, and falling in love. You’ll learn kisses don’t always mean something. Promises can be broken just as easily as they were made, and as hard as it is to believe, sometimes goodbyes are forever.

 

 

I love unmade beds. I love when people are drunk and crying and cannot be anything but honest in that moment. I love the look in people’s eyes when they realize they’re in love. I love the way people look when they first wake up and they’ve forgotten their surroundings. I love the gasp people take when their favorite character dies. I love when people close their eyes and drift to somewhere in the clouds. I fall in love with people and their honest moments all the time. I fall in love with their breakdowns and their smeared makeup and their daydreams. Honesty is just too beautiful to ever put into words.

 

There are two types of waiting. There’s the the waiting you do for something you know is coming, sooner or later—like waiting for the 6:28 train, or the school bus, or a party where a certain handsome boy might be. And then there’s the waiting for something you don’t know is coming. You don’t even know what it is exactly, but you’re hoping for it. You’re imagining it and living your life for it. That’s the kind of waiting that makes a fist in your heart.

 

…And please remember that you were beautiful before he told you that you were.

 

I sighed

because I knew what was coming,

and I couldn’t prevent it from happening. 

The feeling resembled how the air hangs before a storm.

Heavy.

But I was a lightning rod in an empty field.

I tried to run away, I truly did.

It came at me so fast, and the 

effects left me wondering if I was

dead or alive. 

I feel no difference. 

 

I long so much to make beautiful things. But beautiful things require effort and disappointment and perseverance.

 

To wish you were someone else
is to waste the person you are.

 

 

Sometimes people think they know you. They know a few facts about you, and they piece you together in a way that makes sense to them. And if you don’t know yourself very well, you might even believe that they are right. But the truth is, that isn’t you. That isn’t you at all.

16:45, 21 March 2014

 

I don’t like to talk about what hurts.

 

And it hurts so much to want something you can’t have.

 

When you find yourself drowning in self-hate, you have to remind yourself that you weren’t born feeling this way. That at some point in your journey, some person or experience sent you the message that there was something wrong with who you are, and you internalized those messages and took them on as your truth. But that hate isn’t yours to carry, and those judgments aren’t about you. And in the same way that you learned to think badly of yourself, you can learn to think new, self-loving and accepting thoughts. You can learn to challenge those beliefs, take away their power, and reclaim your own. It won’t be easy, and it won’t happen over night. But it is possible. And it starts when you decide that there has to be more to life than this pain you feel. It starts when you decide that you deserve to discover it.

 

 

But most of all, I like to watch people. Sometimes I ride the subway all day and look at them and listen to them. I just want to figure out who they are and what they want and where they are going.

 

 

Maybe the wolf is in love with the moon, and each month it cries for a love it will never touch.

 

Hearts are breakable. And I think even when you heal, you are never what you were before.

 

To get over one addiction, you have to become addicted to something else.

 

It’s like drowning but you just won’t fucking die.

 

Kinda pointless to fight for what you want when what you want continues to break your heart.

 

You are not a flower. Stop. You are strong. Don’t let people step on you.

 

The story so far:

In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people angry and has been widely regarded as a bad move.

16:30, 9 March 2014

 

And like the sea, I’m constantly changing from calm to hell.

 

I want to be an important part of your life,

but not in the sense that I’m in your life all the time.

I want you to see a certain colour or hear a certain

sound and think of me. 

Maybe you’ll see a picture or hear a joke and laugh 

because you know I’d love it.

I want to be ingrained into your mind.

 

There are in infinite set of numbers between 0 and 1. There’s .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course there is a bigger set of infinite numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. 

 

Someday, somewhere – anywhere, unfailingly, you’ll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.

 

Honestly, do what you want. If you want to kiss your crush do it, if you want to get drunk with your friends do it, if you want to have sex do it, if you want to smoke marijuana do it, if you want to do well in school do it. If you don’t want to do these things, don’t do it. It’s okay to do these things but its also just as fine not to. Do whatever you want to make you happy. It’s your life, not anyone else’s.

 

Do not fall in love with people like me. 
I will take you to
museums, and parks, and monuments,
and kiss you in every beautiful
place, so that you can
never go back to them
without tasting me
like blood in your mouth.
I will destroy you in the most 
beautiful way possible.
And when I leave 
you will finally understand, 
why storms are named after people.

 

This is why you should never, ever get your hopes up. This is why you should see the glass as half empty. So when the whole thing spills, you aren’t as devastated.

 

But why do I notice everything? She thought.Why must I think? She did not want to think. She would rather force her mind to become a blank and lie back, and accept quietly, tolerantly, whatever came.

 

You’ve felt it, haven’t you? Those feelings that seem to get so big in your chest, like something is so beautiful it aches?

 

One day, whether you 
are 14, 
28 
or 65

you will stumble upon
someone who will start
a fire in you that cannot die.

However, the saddest, 
most awful truth 
you will ever come to find––

is they are not always
with whom we spend our lives.

 

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.

 

You wanted to be 16 to finally get to wear makeup and go to prom and fall in love for the first time, but no one told you that winged eyeliner is a bitch to put on and fancy dresses are expensive and the boy you love will not love you back.Then you’re thrown into college and it’s new and different and for a while you’ve lost yourself, whether in booze or homework or fake friends that you’ll never see again after graduation. You’re learning calculus based psychics and the molecular geometry of sodium tetraflouroborate but no one is teaching you how to pay bills or take out a mortgage or how to get over that boy you loved from high school. So life comes like a bullet train and you have no idea where you’re going, unprepared and bubbling with anxiety and fear. You’re on your own now and the ride is getting faster and bumpier. Grab for something to hold on to but there’s only thin air, nothing else to do now but hope that in the sea of similarly uneasy faces there will be someone willing to let you hang on to their arm.

 

 

Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it has always been a sign that you are alive.

 

You have to find the right distance between people. Too close, and they overwhelm you, too far and they abandon you.

 

People get drunk
They hook up with the wrong person
And pretend to be okay
People act tough
And get mad

People will do anything to distract their heart. 
They will do anything to distract it from missing someone.

 

 

The lonely one offers his hand too quickly to whomever he encounters.

15:30, 15 February 2014

 

The biggest coward is a man who awakens a woman’s love with no intention of loving her.

 

The living tell the dying not to leave, and the dying do not listen. The dying tell us not to be sad for them, and we do not listen. The dialogue between the living and the dead is full of misunderstanding and silence.

I enjoy writing about people falling in love, probably because I think the first time you fall in love is the first time that you have to figure out how you’re going to orient your life. What are you going to value? What’s going to be most important to you? And I think that’s really interesting to write about.

 

You do not get to choose
when to have me; you 
cannot turn me off like too
loud music. Please don’t 
teach me that I’m the kind
of person you need a break
from. Love me all the time 
or not at all because I’m too
fragile to be left on pause.

 

 

Maybe you think you’ll be entitled to more happiness later by forgoing all of it now, but it doesn’t work that way. Happiness takes as much practice as unhappiness does. It’s by living that you live more. By waiting you wait more. Every waiting day makes your life a little less. Every lonely day makes you a little smaller. Every day you put off your life makes you less capable of living it.

 

You will have days where you feel better, and you will have days where you want to die. Both are okay. There is no magical cure. You just need to close your eyes, and trust that the waves will pass, and soon you’ll be able to breathe again.

 

When you realize… that there’s nothing to realize—
That it’s all just here,
then what are you going to do?

 

Let yourself go. Pull out from the depths those thoughts that you do not understand, and spread them out in the sunlight and know the meaning of them.

 

I want to ask you about your past,

but at the same time I don’t

because my stomach becomes

more knotted than my hair

after a long windy day at the beach

when thinking of a you

before me

 

I try to keep my mind from drifting

to the image of you holding her hand

and gazing into her eyes,

thinking about how her smile

is the reason

you smile

 

It hurts imagining 

there was anyone before me

and I’m sorry,

because I know how unfair that is

 

I guess I’m just afraid

there was something in her

you’ll notice is lacking

in me

 

And if your daughter came to you, crying with hunger, would you tell her no? Would you tell her she is too fat, she wants too much, she must shrink into society? No.
Then why would you tell yourself the exact same thing? You are somebody’s daughter.

 

Sometimes we get sad about things and we don’t like to tell other people that we are sad about them. We like to keep it a secret. Or sometimes, we are sad but we really don’t know why we are sad, so we say we aren’t sad but we really are.

 

Sometimes it’s going to hurt. You’re going to sit on the floor screaming at the ceiling and pulling your hair and trying to tear your skin off your bones. You’re going to fall asleep with tears burning holes in your cheeks and praying that you won’t wake up. But you will. You will always wake up. Be glad. It’s going to stop hurting.

 

When the boy you love gets drunk and kisses another girl and his words hit you right in the heart and knock the wind out of your chest, try to remember that the world isn’t caving in on you even though it feels like it is.

 

 

The sky is blue because it’s sad, but the clouds are white because there are still little wisps of hope flying around in the air and sometimes they fill the whole damn sky and that’s how you know it’s all going to be alright.

 

When you’re convinced that there’s nothing left inside you, remember that you’ve got the entire galaxy under your tongue and the world in your bones. There are flowers growing from your cheeks, sometimes you just need to water them a little, crying helps.

 

 

 

I’m not the person I was a year ago I won’t suck in my stomach or crawl on my knees for you I will sharpen silky sweet thighs with fragments of glass I will tear down taut flesh and conquer cities I am my own being I have constellations inside of me and I am not sorry.

 

It was when I was listening to the waves crashing. And I was sitting on the cold bathroom floor shivering. While I sat there with my bones dissolving. And ripping my skin open. That I just realised. That I do not deserve you. Because you deserve someone who will share their cigarettes. And who will not treat you like shit. You need someone who isn’t me.

 

you watched me fall apart
and weren’t afraid to
touch the sharp
shards of me.

 

Nobody goes through life without having their heart broken and one day you will wake up and it will be okay.

 

I wasn’t enough and that’s okay.

 

The biggest lesson I’ve learned is, “It’s okay.” It’s okay for me to be kind to myself. It’s okay to be wrong. It’s okay to get mad. It’s okay to be flawed. It’s okay to be happy. It’s okay to move on.

 

 

I remember crying over you and I don’t mean a couple of tears and I’m blue. I’m talking about collapsing and screaming at the moon.

 

 

No, I’m not ok. But I haven’t been ok since I was 11, maybe 12. I am still here though. 
I’m still breathing. For me, sometimes, that will have to be enough

 

 

I still can’t believe I survived myself.

 

 

You can’t lose what you never had, you can’t keep what’s not yours & you can’t hold on to someone who doesn’t want to stay.

 

 

I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. Even when I hated you.

 

 

I hope there are days when you fall in love with being alive.

 

Do you think God stays in heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he’s created?

00:47, 7 February 2014

 

And then, one day, it was you.

 

The problem is that you don’t just choose recovery. You have to keep choosing recovery, over and over and over again. You have to make that choice 5-6 times each day. You have to make that choice even when you really don’t want to. It’s not a single choice, and it’s not easy.

 

It doesn’t hurt because if you keep hurting the same part of you again and again and again, the nerve endings all die. And when that happens, that part of you goes numb. That’s why it doesn’t hurt. Don’t be proud of it.

 

Yes, I do remember that I had something important to tell you. You won’t mind if I don’t, will you? I’d rather leave it unexpressed — it comes out too direct and scarily hollow.

 

I am a millenial. Generation Y. Born between the birth of AIDS and 9/11. Give or take. They call us the global generation. We are known for out entitlement and narcissism. Some say it’s because we’re the first generation where every kid gets a trophy for just growing up. Others thinks it’s because social media allows us to post every time we fart or have a sandwich for all the world to see. But it seems our one defining trait is a numbness to the world. An indifference to suffering.

 

The quickest path to self-destruction is to push away the people you love.

 

I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.

 

I’m a mess of unfinished thoughts.

 

No one really knows why they are alive until they know what they’d die for.

 

The person that makes you feel alive, is the person that can make you feel like you’re dying. What a fucking trap.

 

I broke my own heart loving you.

 

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.

 

With all your lies, you’re still very lovable.

 

Are you aware that you are conditioned? That is the first thing to ask yourself, not how to be free of your conditioning. You may never be free of it, and if you say, `I must be free of it’, you may fall into another trap of another form of conditioning. So are you aware that you are conditioned? Do you know that even when you look at a tree and say, `That is an oak tree’, or `that is a banyan tree’, the naming of the tree, which is botanical knowledge, has so conditioned your mind that the word comes between you and actually seeing the tree? To come in contact with the tree you have to put your hand on it and the word will not help you to touch it.

 

Mondays are fine. Its your life that sucks.

 

 

i put your name on the bullet 
so everyone knows 
you were the last thing 
that went through my head.

 

We look up at the same stars, and see such different things.

 

We’re adults, but, like…adult cats. Someone should probably take care of us, but we can sort of make it on our own.

 

I still can’t believe I survived myself.

 

 

Sober or drunk, it’s always you.

 

 

I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. He taught me that if you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it full speed ahead. Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it and above all become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good. Hot is no good either. White hot and passionate is the only thing to be.

 

 

Do old scars ever stop hurting?

 

 

 

No matter what you say or what you do 
When I’m alone, I’d rather be with you

 

I get so attached, so easily and it’s what will destroy me in the end.

 

I’d rather write about this world than live in it and I’d rather play music all day and read and wander around in bookstores and watch humans but not be one of them.