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@wthellmichelle
im angry cause im always hungry
My life is a constant cycle of waiting until the weekend and then not doing anything when it comes
We fall in love with people who don’t love themselves, maybe because we think we could be someone’s missing piece. Perhaps that’s narcissistic, to think we are another individuals antidote for existence, and perhaps it’s the all too human need to be needed.
How do you forget, someone who you've shared all of your most memorable memories with, someone who you put effort and time into, someone who you trusted wholeheartedly, someone that once meant the world to you? And that is my question, how do you forget someone you've loved, with all of your heart?
lol ok
You say that you love rain, but you open your umbrella when it rains. You say that you love the sun, but you find a shadow spot when the sun shines. You say that you love the wind, but you close your windows when wind blows. This is why I am afraid, you say that you love me too.
Some things never change, no matter how long time has passed.
Like the way the waves never stop washing up an ocean's shore.
How yesterday and tomorrow always cross and mix on the skyline,
and the way I feel about you, like you and I.
All that you are, all that you have been and all that you're yet to be are all the reason to why I love you.
The way your eyes form a line, when you smile a smile. The way your breathe creates a gentle atmosphere, with every inhale, every exhale. The way your voice sounds late at night, when the moonlight shines in the darkest sky. The way you hold back your tears, a little solider, you ought to be. The way you do all these little things, unintended, strange, attractive. The way your flaw appears to be nothing, overlooked because you're amazing.
You're not perfect, but you're worth it.
Lost love shouldn't be considered a painful chase, but a stage of self-improvement. We're just experiencing life itself through losses and gains. We have all loved someone, we were once loved by someone, we have hurt before and we have been hurt by others. Joy, frustration, disappointment, longing and waiting are just emotions given to make you understand what you lose or gain isn't important. You have to live either way. What's important is you've grow up from your experiences, your life is no longer a bottomless pit, it is a adventure full of undiscovered treasure. Everything is different now than how it was before. Everything is everchanging, although nothing is everlasting.
Isn't it strange to think that there's someone out there that is destined to be with you? It could be a stranger at the train station, a reader at the coffee shop, a passing face on the sidewalk or even a pizza boy who will show up on your doorstep, eventually. You guys haven't met yet, but somehow, you're both connected by this invisible string. Someday in the near future, you'll meet that someone and be absolutely certain that it was destined to be.
I have not broken your heart — you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.
Wuthering Heights
Friend: so my girlfriend told me to go over to her house today
Friend: because no one's home
Friend: I got so excited and went over
Friend: and really, no one was home...
One of the best feelings in the world, when someone who you would never expect to like you back, likes you.
You think you want to die. When really, you're just waiting for a savior to come rescue you.
He had a glow that shined brighter than the sunlight. Nonetheless, he was something darker than midnight. He was my remedy for all these slow nights, with him alongside, I knew I would always be alright. In many ways, he was like a knight, he protected me and never let me out of his sight. Although we had our own battles and fights, it was no question that he was my favorite hello, also my hardest good-bye.
It seem we spend all of our time looking for love. We probably keep walking right by it every time. Love comes to those who still hope although they've been disappointed, to those who still believe although they've been betrayed, to those who still love although they've hurt before.
If the boy who draws
let’s you look over his shoulder.
If the poet
smiles
and shows you her words.
If the girl who sings for the shower only,
hums a song
in front of you.
Know that you’re no longer a person
but the air
and dust
that fills their lungs.
When the world perishes,
and all things cease to exist,
you’ll remain inside an ink stain,
a paint brush,
a song.