"If you wanted me to apologize, you should have told me I hurt your feelings in the first place."
- 3:18 AM thoughts
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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cherry valley forever
styofa doing anything
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wallacepolsom

titsay

JVL

Kaledo Art
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

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Misplaced Lens Cap
RMH

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Andulka
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
we're not kids anymore.
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Product Placement
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@papercutplanes-cute
"If you wanted me to apologize, you should have told me I hurt your feelings in the first place."
- 3:18 AM thoughts
"I hope your nightmares eat you alive."
- 10:58 PM thoughts
"It's not him that I miss per say, but the comfort and security that came with rock bottom for me. He just happened to...be there."
- 9:14 AM thoughts
"'Well, it was just a misunderstanding with an ex-boyfriend or something, right?'
Was the audacity I received before I could finish my story, let alone get past the word 'assaulted.'"
- 7:38 AM thoughts
"if I'm always messing up my words, over-explaining myself, then offending my friends anyways--maybe it would be better if I didn't speak at all"
- 12:34 AM thoughts
"where do I find the balance in 'I don't want to care anymore, but I will always care about you'"
-11:20 PM thoughts
"When the plane took off and the ground beneath its wheels slowly disappeared--it finally hit me. I will never be able to keep my word. When you asked to come visit again, directly for the first time, I promised you I would. The moment you're eyes glistened with tears--you /never/ cried--and my heart sank. False hope is a dangerous thing, yet we both needed it.
It was the ocean that carried your ashes away that day, but I couldn't accept the fact you were truly gone until I asked myself, 'Wait, why are we leaving without visiting Grandma?'"
"...but you were asleep, and so I whispered all the reasons I love you in hopes that it would sweeten your dreams."
- 8:42 PM thoughts
"Your kindness is something I feel the need to keep safe
to fold into my heart like flower petals fitting between the pages
and preserve in beautiful words that I've written
and paint with colors that will never fade"
- 10:08 AM thoughts
"You told me everything from the beginning, but I didn't know how to listen. When you confessed to me that your plan was to end things after only a few months had failed because you'd fallen in love with me, when I asked you to be nicer to me and you said 'no' with absolute certainty.
When my depression affected you so badly that you took every special memory we made and cast a shadow of necrotic disappointment over each beautiful morning.
Because while I had been so grateful to you for patiently coaxing me out of my head, turns out you were really just wondering, 'why is it so hard for her to get out of bed?'
Then when things took a turn and you were hurting instead, the notion of your emotions affecting me negatively was clearly incorrect, and it was my fault for caring too much--but at the same time, you told me it was never enough.
I wish I had understood these words to be hurtful and cold. I wish I could've seen the way you contorted me into hating the version of myself you'd painted only in your head.
I wish I hadn't grown quiet, sullen, and gray--because I missed the colors, the warmth of your smile, and the taste of a golden peach on a day that felt like sunshine itself. I missed you, but I missed myself more--so I watched as you burned our relationship to the ground, then turning to me and through gritted teeth all the nasty things you could think of to hurt me. And when I finally found a crack in your manipulation tactics, I was able to finally be free.
I wish I had listened to when you told me to leave, not only when you asked me to stay. But after three hellish years I'm finally free, I got away--and I will never again listen to and try to understand someone who doesn't listen to me."
- jumbled thoughts 12:01 PM
"you were never the boy I should have wrote poetry for, but he is"
12:03 - thoughts
"We are the children born from tornados and thunderstorms."
- The Origin of Midwesterns
"There's a broken beauty in the early hours after midnight. When there's comfort in the heavy blanket of sleep that consumes the world around you. All you have to do is breathe, and there is nobody awake to make you feel guilty for not doing more."
- 2:58 AM thoughts
"Sometimes," she mused with a flick of her cigarette over the banister. "The world seems just a little too...colorful." She turned towards me with a lazy gesture of her hand, and I was memorized by the way the city's lights reflected and danced in her eyes.
"That's when I want it all to burn.' The words formed on her lips but it was the wind that carried her whispers to me.
"I don't want to watch it necessarily--it's not like I enjoy seeing others suffer." An awkward laugh and a shrugged shoulder carried into, "but it would make everything so much simpler, you know?" Her eyes became unfocused as she let her gaze drift yo the nightlife thriving on the streets below. "Because without color, there would be no chaos. Only black and white, order and balance..." She paused, and a smile flitted across her lips as if she were enjoying a private joke. The silence was almost tangible, but what could I say that would give color meaning again?
"And gray," I blurted loudly, like the words were escaping my mind when I hadn't even tried to tuck them away. Eyebrows raised, she faced me once more with an unreadable question flickering in her eyes. The quiet between us extended until I felt almost suffocated by its presence--and I was doing whatever I could to keep the rising panic at bay.
"Yes," she murmured finally. I tried not to choke on a breath of relief as it filled my chest. Her approval was a response I hadn't realized I'd been waiting for.
"Black, white, and gray," she agreed. "That would be quite lovely, wouldn't you think?"
I couldn't answer, because whatever she wanted to hear from me would be a lie. Because she didn't want life to be lovely--she wanted it to be simple.
And life itself will always be many things. Beautifully dreadful, then horrifically lovely. Painfully loud and then awfully quiet, and so--SO much more.
But life--it will never merely be simple, no matter how passionately she wishes it to be so.
"Call me a seer or call me a drunk--liquor or not you'll be gone in a month."
- The Dance of Narcissus
"What am I but a bruised ballerina, dancing along the tongues of lovers, old and young--tip-toeing across their gritted teeth until the soles of my feet can do nothing but beg for a silent reprieve?"
- The Dance of Narcissus
"I've been deleting more and more messages lately before sending them. I wonder if that's a good thing or not."
- 6:00 PM thoughts