*jumps over my problems* parkour

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@smokeinsilence
*jumps over my problems* parkour
being brave doesn’t mean you aren’t scared. being brave means you are scared, really scared, badly scared, and you do the right thing anyway.
you must learn her. you must know the reason why she is silent. you must trace her weakest spots. you must write to her. you must remind her that you are there. you must know how long it takes for her to give up. you must be there to hold her when she is about to. you must love her because many have tried and failed. and she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept. and, this is how you keep her.
This is a marvelous piece of cinema. He essentially grows up in these three minutes: from painful “”end of the world” heartbreak, to the self-knowledge that he is going to be all right, and wiser. A transition we all have to make on the road to emotional maturity.
Imagine receiving a text:”can we fix this? I can’t lose you”
I know.
when Charles Bukowski said "and when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. what do you call it, freedom or loneliness?"
anyone else feel like they’re at the point where they don’t even know what to say or do anymore? like there’s so much going on in my head and i’ve just lost control to pretty much everything. tired of love, tired of hate, tired of life. i just don’t see a point anymore. someone once told me “the meaning of life is what you make it” but idk what to make of it anymore. it feels like an endless cycle of pain and heartache and constant restlessness. can’t sleep anymore. i feel like i’m at this constant war with myself and i’m stuck in a changing mental maze. if anyone reads this, just know if you feel the same, i care about you. idgaf who you are, i love you because i know what it feels like to feel constantly isolated from reality, like the elephant in the room.
im having a weird day
do a bro a favor and reblog
“Don’t lie to an over thinker. It never ends well. Such people have trained their brains to look for holes in a story. If shit doesn’t make sense, they think about it over and over until it makes sense. I’m that person.”
— Unknown
i feel the crackling and burning of the embers
insta
(C.B)(2.19.19)
mental illness is like you will crave love but never feel comfortable around anyone ever. your welcome
what should my next mistake be
— anne carson, from the glass essay
look, love is not something we wind up, something we set or control. love is just like art: a force that comes into our lives without any rules, expectations or limitations. love like art, must always be free.
I hate feeling like people are getting bored of me