Discover Top Posts Tagged with #charlie

memory of a charlie

sometimes i get like. self conscious about posting pics of charlies house bc theres hay bits and rogue poops in the pictures. and then im like fuckkk that lmao this is a realistic rabbit living space. charlie loves to b a messy girl and spread hay everywhere.

sheila's room is so much cleaner bc shes always been a sweet neat and tidy lady but there are still scattered poops bc thats what a rabbit DOES. little poop machine that feeds my garden

#those hyper manicured aesthetic pics i see on Instagram or whtvr are not obtainable unless i sweep 2x a day #charlie #sheila

the buttcrack bandit

#charlie #bunny #idk why she does this shit #like are you comfortable ? really ????

maybe the perks of being a wallflower is not really about growing up. maybe it is about the strange, almost frightening realization that you have been alive the entire time, even during the years you barely remember living. charlie watches everyone else move through the world as though there is some secret instruction manual he never received, and he stands at the edge of it all, observing, remembering, trying to understand why everyone else seems to know how to belong. he loves people quietly. he notices things. he keeps pieces of other people inside himself because sometimes it feels easier to carry someone else’s sadness than to admit you have your own. and maybe that is what makes the story hurt so much: charlie isn’t empty. he is overflowing. with memories, with fear, with affection, with things he doesn’t yet have the words to understand. sam and patrick don’t magically fix him. they simply give him somewhere to exist without having to explain every part of himself. for a little while, he is not the strange boy standing outside the circle. he is inside it. he is laughing in the back of a truck, listening to music, falling in love with moments that are too ordinary to realize they are becoming memories. and maybe that is the quiet tragedy of being young: you rarely know which moments are the last moments of their kind. you don’t know when the hallway conversation will become something you remember years later. you don’t know when the friend beside you will become someone you haven’t spoken to in a decade. you don’t know that one particular night will eventually feel like a little room in your mind that you keep returning to whenever adulthood becomes too loud. the perks of being a wallflower understands that growing up isn’t simply becoming older. sometimes it is realizing that the things that happened to you are not the same thing as who you are. sometimes it is learning that being hurt does not make you permanently broken, and that remembering something doesn’t mean you have to remain trapped inside it. charlie spends so much of his life watching other people exist that his greatest transformation is almost painfully simple: he begins to participate in his own life. he stops standing entirely outside himself. he starts becoming present. and perhaps that is what “we are infinite” really means. not that happiness lasts forever. not that nothing bad will happen. not that youth can be preserved. maybe it means that, for one impossible moment, you can feel completely alive, completely connected to the people around you, and completely certain that you belong somewhere. the moment will end. everything ends. but that doesn’t make it less real. perhaps being infinite was never about escaping time. perhaps it was about finally being present enough to feel it passing. wow. i’ve been posting so many rants lately. thanks for reading!

#the perks of being a wallflower #charlie #rant