Morgan

[thequotejournals]

I don’t want to have to be the one who mourns everything when everyone else has clearly forgotten. It’s mortifying. It’s mortifying to be the one who remembers.

Ryan O’Connell (via wordsnquotes)

[wnq-writers]

I don’t know how many times I said: “I can’t do this anymore”. If somebody heard me say it over and over again in all those years, they would probably react like this: “not again” and roll their eyes. But I can tell you one thing, my friend, it never feels less heavy. Every time this sentence appears in my head, in my mouth, in my heart - every time it feels like my soul is ripping itself apart because she knows it hurts less to die than to be alive.

dewdropheart  (via wnq-writers)

[twisted-evil-spawn]

“The Creature”

A creature lives in my mirror

In my mind

I cannot describe it

And you cannot see it

Because it hides behind a shell

Which appears completely normal

This creature is cruel

It changes its shell

For everyone it meets

Desperate to be liked

To be loved

Then it torments itself

With intense feelings

Of anger

Of depression

Of loneliness

Because it knows no one

Not a single human soul

Could care for a creature

As terrible as itself

It screams and cries

The pain is too much

It is simply too complicated

To exist in an ever-shifting state

Never knowing exactly what is true

Or what is a delusion

The shell smiles

While the creature inside

Lives in constant discomfort

Yearning for anything

That can destroy the shell

And the nightmare inside

Every emotion is too strong

Every drop of rain

A hurricane

Every subtle breath

A destructive gust of wind

Even a nice, sunny day

Somehow results in a nasty sunburn

Creating an agony so great

The poor creature cannot bear it

If you could see it, you would pity it

Or maybe, you would be thankful

That a creature that horrifying

That ugly

That awful

Is justifiably suffering

And I would have to agree

But what if I told you

That creature is me?

[thequotejournals]

In a sense, I’m the one who ruined me: I did it myself.

Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (via wordsnquotes)

[wnq-writers]

I’ve forgotten how to fake it. I’ve forgotten how I used to do it. I’m just here on the sidelines, watching everyone else behave however it is a fully-grown person is supposed to behave. They do it so easily, but it’s just too foreign to me. I’m trying too hard to play this part, hoping I’m not found out, and I can’t even tell if it’s working.

keyds (via wnq-writers)

[themotivationjournals]

It has been a beautiful fight. Still is.

Charles Bukowski (via themotivationjournals)

[wnq-writers]

let me tell you something: no one is going to look at you, broken and shattered and think - damn, you are beautiful. no one is going to come pick up your broken pieces off the floor and assemble them into a beautiful whole. hell, you won’t even look at yourself and think - I made broken look beautiful. you know why? because all those writers lied to you. yes, all those with their poems of scraped knuckles and blood dripping down chins, pomegranate songs and loves that ripped through you like hurricanes. liars. so you and i, we are going to make a plan. you are not going to romanticize days when your brain tells you to smash that mirror, you are not going to romanticize the lover who doesn’t understand you but still writes about you. here is what you are going to romanticize instead: you are going to romanticize the first day of spring, its gentle hands all over your body, lifting you up until you are as light as a feather. you are going to romanticize the tea and honey kind of love, no hurricanes, but sunshine that builds you up from within, that helps you make it through the worst days. you are going to romanticize gentle hands of a friend in yours, telling you that it is going to be okay. because it is. and don’t trust poets, we’re no good, we love pretending that our jagged edges tantamount to a beautiful disaster, but in reality - there ain’t nothing beautiful about shaky hands holding a cigarette and empty eyes staring at the cracks in the walls. you know what is beautiful, instead? the days when you can look at yourself in the mirror and smile, scars and all. music that makes your soul flow like a river, books that offer comfort, families flocking together like overgrown birds to keep you safe and warm, friends that give you strength when you can find none, lovers who make you laugh through tears. baby, from now on you are going to romanticize healing; honey dripping down your fingertips, August nights that stick to your skin, the day you find your purpose, long car rides and singing so loud that no one can shut you up now. bad news: no one is coming to save you. good news: you can save yourself.

Lana Rafaela (via wnq-writers)

[wnq-writers]

It’s a bad habit of mine to say “I’m sorry” as a reaction to everything. It comes out whenever I’m sad, scared, or confused, even when I’m the one getting hurt.

howtoevaporate  (via wnq-writers)

[poems-and-words]

[poems-and-words]

Book of the day: I Am the Messenger by Markus Zusak

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[wnq-anonymous]

In the end. we all just want someone that chooses us. Over everyone else. Under any circumstances.

Anonymous (via wnq-anonymous)

[wordsnquotes]

People think they know you. They think they know how you’re handling a situation. But the truth is no one knows. No one knows what happens after you leave them, when you’re lying in bed or sitting over your breakfast alone and all you want to do is cry or scream. They don’t know what’s going on inside your head—the mind-numbing cocktail of anger and sadness and guilt. This isn’t their fault. They just don’t know. And so they pretend and they say you’re doing great when you’re really not. And this makes everyone feel better. Everybody but you.

William H. Woodwell Jr.  (via wordsnquotes)

[thequotejournals]

She felt everything too deeply, it was like the world was too much for her.

Joyce Maynard, Labor Day (via thequotejournals)

[wnq-writers]

I misjudged the depth of my strength when my mind started fighting against me and I didn’t have enough to fight back.

Amanda Vegas  (via wnq-writers)

[wnq-writers]

You are petrified of everything around you, so you build bulletproof skin and sharpen your tongue. Your mind is on edge because you feel as though a war is about to emerge. But someone ought to tell you that it isn’t the war in front of you that you should be prepared for, but rather the one that’s brewing inside of you.

cursedskies (via wnq-writers)

[poems-and-words]

[poems-and-words]

Book of the day: Night Road by Kristin Hannah

Get the FREE Kindle Reading App

[wordsnquotes]

You don’t ask people with knives in their stomachs what would make them happy; happiness is no longer the point. It’s all about survival; it’s all about whether you pull the knife out and bleed to death or keep it in…

Nick Hornby, How to Be Good (via wordsnquotes)

[wnq-writers]

I still have imaginary conversations with you while I’m driving. And I still feel a jolt when I see or hear your name - even though I know it’s someone else with the same first name. I don’t know how I can have one years worth of memories on constant replay for over two years - but I assure you it’s possible. And perhaps it’s driving me crazy and that’s why I’ve developed a phobia of 4 alphabetical letters when they’re arranged in a particular order or why I’m whispering to myself in the car…. Perhaps I’ve gone mad. Or perhaps I’m just as madly in love with you as I always was.

Ranata Suzuki (via wnq-writers)