litpieceofshit

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me every minute of every day:

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Rain sounds

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I want to be a dog playing happily with his stick.

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Sometimes, I look at her and wonder how the world managed to hurt her like that.

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My chest feels heavy, and I can't breathe. I want to cry, but I can't. I don't have the freedom to cry without giving an explanation to my people. What am I supposed to tell them? The fact that I will keep on searching for closure? The fact that I still keep searching for you in every person I meet? The fact that I still love you with my whole heart that I don't allow anyone else to pave a way in? The fact that I'm still there where I was five years ago, waiting for you to just tell me why shit happened the way it happened?! The fact that, no matter how hard I try not to think of you, I do end up doing it once in a while and go down the memory wishing never to come back? The fact that the hopeless romantic in me is dying a painful death every other day as I move towards a void? The fact that I feel damaged and incapable of loving people anymore? The fact that there's a hole inside me that I cannot stop from getting bigger everyday? The fact that on days when the clouds turn a bit dark, I think of you and cry myself to sleep? Why does everything has to be so complicated and sad? Why can't I just go back to the normal life I had?

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Ah. What a beautiful day to think about every shitty day I've ever had.

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Funny how the concept of age wouldn't have existed if not for calendars. I wouldn't have had to wait for 18 years to drink beer.

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I find myself reaching for you even though I know you aren't there. Why does it has to be so difficult, existence?

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Why is he so angry at me?

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I've no idea what to do with all this love inside me. Where do I pour it out?

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Would you still love me if I showed you all my versions?

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Me to myself, everyday : Just one more day.

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Instead of telling me shit like 'things happen for a reason', tell me the fucking reason!

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Woke up. Still alive. Going back to sleep.

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Allow me to love you while I destroy myself in the process.

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Why do losing people feel like losing a part of yourself? That part which you never knew existed until the very moment you had to let go of it.

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We don't deserve dolphins.

Dolphins doing cartwheels with an aquarium guest.

(via Ant.Giovanni)