This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You are alive. And you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you’re listening to that song on that drive with the people you love most in this world. And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.
It's Time - Imagine Dragons from Night Visions
i always think that i’ll have more time. but what happens when time runs out? there’s always been a maybe. it was never imperative that it was a yes or no. do i spring for the curly fries? do i get the onion rings? half and half obviously. but this can’t be half and half. this has to be all or nothing. and i can’ make that decision. i’m too young. too immature. so maybe that means i’m not ready to put myself in such a traumatic position. i am not being dramatic. i know what dramatic is. get out your compass i will show you how far from dramatic i am.
the worst part is that neither choice is right. but neither is wrong. what would you do?
i have nothing. no substance. i wish i could take my thoughts and have that be enough to show them that i’m competent. it’s not even about skill. it’s about how you present whatever you have. i’m plenty competent. but the only thing they care about is what they see on paper. they don;t want to know me. they want to know if i’ll be an asset.
is it bad that i miss you? and when i get angry or sad i tell myself to think about you and i feel better.
and yet i know that i can find better than you. why is it that we choose to love people who treat us like dirt? i guess we seek out the love that we think we deserve.
i’ve already heard everything that everyone said today, so i imagine that everyone said the exact opposite of what they actually said. i try to picture how different the day might have been. or how similar. maybe what we say changes nothing. or one thing being said changes everything. i guess i’ll never know, because this day has long since passed.
if you want to believe, you can find reasons to.
i wish you could see how you’re handling this. it will never be all about you, and i think you need that. i will have my own, and you will have your own. i think you need a challenge. i think you need space. i think you need to grow up. i think you need me.
for a split second i have the most intense deja vu in which i recall every detail of a place i’ve seen in a dream. and for that second i feel like it means something, that the puzzle pieces all fit and that i’m thinking these things for a reason. but then i try to hold onto it. i think about it too hard and too long. and then i forget why i’m thinking about it. maybe that’s the secret. everything is fleeting. even us.
i think i believe in good omens.
i read books to escape from real life. to fantasize. not to be taken into bridget jones’s diary. that sounds so normal. i want to relate to a book in the sense that it has nothing to do with me. does that make sense?
Purity Ring- Fineshrine
get a little closer, let it fold; cut open my sternum and pull my little ribs around you
(Source: juliacat1)
there once was a man named Mcnair
ne’er did he grow a gray hair
then one day the mirror
shined out the clearer
and ‘twas more than the poor man could bear.
this story is not about growing old. it is about growing young. or rather, regressing back to youth. because you can’t grow young, can you? nature intended us to move forward, in one direction towards oblivion. but why? our skin gets thin, our organs shut down, we are buried in the ground and served up on a plate of dirt so the pretty flowers can live for us. but why is it that we can think and act? why are humans condemned to imagine, to question why we can’t be more? i refuse to leave this earth without being remembered. which is impossible. so therefore, i refuse to leave this earth at all. this is the story of how i became young again. and how i realized why we are only meant to grow old. wanting to be young again is the ultimate form of immaturity. wisdom is endowed on the aged for a reason. because wisdom is all they have left to cherish. if you never age, there is no wisdom to be had.
and there’s no other way to describe it. i feel awkward and ugly and uninteresting. i don’t know why i’m so self-conscious. i have no reason to be. or do i? see, i’m doing it right now. i can’t help it. i just don’t fit in. or maybe it’s just when michael is around. i don’t feel cool enough. i’m not smooth. i’m not endearing. i’m a bit spastic. a bit awkward.
