ppl are always gonna do what’s best for them, so make sure you do what’s best for you.

if i look back, i am lost
we're not kids anymore.
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

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ppl are always gonna do what’s best for them, so make sure you do what’s best for you.
“Everyone you meet always asks if you have a career, are married or own a house; as if life was some kind of grocery list. But nobody ever asks if you are happy.”
— Heath Ledger
“I’m not who I was one year ago and maybe, just this once, change is good.”
— E. Grin
— i think this is the first spring I’ve ever lived
Leila Chatti, from "Postcard from Gone"
“We are dying from overthinking. We are slowly killing ourselves by thinking about everything. Think. Think. Think. You can never trust the human mind anyway. It’s a death trap.”
— Anthony Hopkins
My mother always complains about her crow’s feet and smile lines. I tell her they are the most beautiful thing on her face. There are many things you can regret but a lifetime of smiles should not be one them.
spring is coming. Spring IS COMING. You will stand on soft grass again, and feel the sun kiss your cheeks and shoulders. you will eat of the same berries as the animals returned from their hibernation. you will hear the air alive with your collective breathing.
A Sad Night in February
It’s a sad night in February and I’m thinking about how many times this body has held me back. All the things I didn’t do, the people I didn’t meet, the pictures I didn’t take, the friends I didn’t make, the huge list of experiences I will never get to do again, the time I will never get back. I guess I was just so scared that people would see me for what I am. They wouldn’t look past it and see who I am inside and like me anyway. I’m scared to go out, I’m scared to go to work, I’m scared to see my parents in the lounge, I’m scared to look at myself in the mirror when I go to have a shower. Isn’t it so sad that I’ve wasted so much of my life worrying about something so insignificant like this. Isn’t it crazy how I spend all of life taking care of other people, telling them how much they matter, how beautiful they are inside and out and yet I just can’t believe it to be true about myself. Isn’t it crazy how mental illness can do this to a person. I am a stranger to myself. Behind closed doors I am nothing except fear and regret.
It’s so hard being this way. It hurts so bad I can barely breathe. I’m running out of poetic ways to say I want the pain to end.
I stand in front of a mirror. Looking at myself. I look in my own eyes as I’m seeing the pupils showing the view of my reflection. I can see that I do not recognize this person. Who are they? Because they are not who I used to see, nor who I used to be. So, I look away, because I cannot stand to see this stranger. The disappointment. The terror. The change of the person, that is me… I look away, because I can’t stand the sight no longer. The disgust of this. The depression I feel. The anger that builds up. The anger that broke the mirror into shatters onto the carpet. The blood on my fist dripping down my hands down to my arms, and to my feet. I couldn’t stand to look at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t stand to see what I saw. The emotions and feelings I feel of the person on the other side. Me versus Myself as I am watching it all unfold. The unfolding reflection became a broken one. Due to a broken person. Cannot believe what I have seen. What I have became. What I am becoming more of. The self loathing of the self fear. The fear of the person I am mostly scared of. The one I used to embrace, but now I am pushing away. The neglect of this one person. The person, that is me.
“i am too soft, still, for this world– snapping in half at a pretty word, or a sad tune, or a broken heart. i think their grief could kill me. i think their hurt could end me– tear me apart with as little as empathy.”
— make me numb