I eventually get over everything. I know I do. I try to remind myself of that when I go and want something I’ll never have. But it doesn’t really help at all. It still hurts just as much. The ache subsides over time but the beginning leaves me fucking miserable.
Somewhereindisturbia, iyam0, somethingcoolerthanthat, tihsllub, rhymesfordays, erikava, onesky, dontkillthemessengerr, sonnyphakonekham and dethjunkie. I don’t follow many people to begin with because having the posts of these blogs on my dash is more than sufficient. Always room for more though.
The one being I know, that will always be there. She’s my alien, so extraterrestrial. My mystical creature, transcending human understanding. My real life imaginary friend; no one else to understand each other, but us.
Although we don’t always see each other, that doesn’t change a thing. Time and distance doesn’t alter our relationship. That’s why I believe she isn’t human.
And that’s why she’s my Soul Sister ♥
I honestly started tearing when I read this.
Soul Sistren, I miss you and love you!
You’re the one person I feel will remain side by side with me for the rest of our existences.
“The Gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”
Exact dialogue I quoted a few months ago. Troy is such a good movie.
Spent today painting. Actually, I’m still painting right now. But I don’t even know what I’m trying to put down so I feel pretty shitty about it.
Ma called earlier and now I guess I’m going to Vegas after graduation.
When I try to help you make the right decisions, you call me crazy, scream at me to back the fuck off and let you be. But when I try to give you your fucking space and refrain from involving myself in your situation whatsoever, you say I don’t care at all about you.
I hate bottling shit up. I mean, it’s obvious that everything is gonna come out sooner or later but I still choose to pack everything as densely as possible.
What happens when you keep pouring water into a bottle that is never emptied out? It overflows. Not all at once, but nonetheless it comes out. I’m already someone who’s constantly on edge, going crazy but I worsen my condition by feigning this happiness and plastering a semi-believable smile on my face.
To bottle something up is like sprinting the first 100 yds in a 400 yd event. You use up all your strength, all your stamina in the beginning. You try to show that you’re strong. But in the end, when it really counts, you have nothing left to give. You’ve spent all your effort on the lesser parts and when it comes down to the important things, you break. Your facade shrivels up into nothing. Your weakness, in its entirety, is your most noticable characteristic.
Holy shit, why is it that when certain people are venting to me about their life, I want to tell them to shut the fuck up. I feel bad, not for them because of the problems they’re telling me, but because I want to just get up and walk away while they are still talking. But then again, it’s not my fault I don’t fucking care about certain things.