Have you been sleeping well? Have you been eating well? Will you have plans this weekend? Have you spoken about me? Have you secretly missed me? Have you wished me dead? Or perhaps I have not even inched into your mind at all?
I wonder if you have sleepless nights, interrupted by lonely sobs. I wonder if you have lost your appetite for days, pigged out for an hour and found yourself hurling everything over a toliet. I wonder if you have tried to arrange plans with anyone, anyone at all to distract yourself from your own deadly thoughts. I wonder if you have caught your own tongue mentioning my name. I wonder if you silently laid in bed and called out my name several times in hopes that I would respond and wipe your overflowing tears. I wonder if you have wished yourself to never wake up in the morning.
Because, I’m not doing to good honestly. But as long as you are sleeping well, eating your heart out, getting out there, talking to others, and forgotten about me I am sure I will be okay in time. If not, I hope the clouds will be the pillow I rest on as I rest with a heavy heart in a star filled sky. Please, continue to do well without me.
You don’t fucking deprive someone else’s ambition. I mean even if he/she’s your partner, closest friend or just your plain school seatmate. You just don’t,you don’t fucking tell him/her what’s best and what’s not for this person. No.
“To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer. To suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy then is to suffer. But suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness. I hope you’re getting this down.”—Woody Allen
“When you’re dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you’re dead? Nobody.”—J.D. Salinger (via forgivethelost)
“All these thousands of miles later, all these different people I’ve been, and it’s still the same story. Why is it you feel like a dope if you laugh alone, but that’s usually how you end up crying? How is it you can keep mutating and still be the same deadly virus?”—Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk
After i graduate college, i swear i’ll fucking move out! Even if that would mean me being homeless or being the stray person that moves houses to houses i won’t mind. My home now is my hell. I’m not exaggerating and shit but this is the only place where i get most of my anger, stress and frustrations. It’s kinda ironic cus i know home gives you comfort but that doesn’t work for me. Home makes me insane. My sister makes me be evil and she’s the devil. I hate her for being an arrogant bitch who boss around everytime she’s home. She would make me feel like i have no authority for everything since she pay for some bills at home and i don’t. But the way i see it, that shouldn’t be like that. Just be a generous fuck, bitch. Don’t own this fucking house!
“When you’re a teenager and in your early twenties it seems desperately eternal and excruciatingly painful. Whereas as you grow older you realise that most things are excruciatingly painful and that is the human condition. Most of us continue to survive because we’re convinced that somewhere along the line, with grit and determination and perseverance, we will end up in some magical union with somebody. It’s a fallacy, of course, but it’s a form of religion. You have to believe. There is a light that never goes out and it’s called hope.”—Morrissey.