I Read Somewhere The Other Day How Would You Describe Your Current Season In Life? Heres My Answer:

I read somewhere the other day “how would you describe your current season in life?” here’s my answer:

I think I would say winter. But not the cold peak winter. It’s like, you’ve been through the harsh, painful winter storms, but you aren’t completely out of it. Spring is coming soon, but you still aren’t sure when. I’ve walked through the ice and rain; I endured it. I lost my warm coat on the way. I could’ve made it out in a better condition, but I made it out. It’s the last stretch of winter. A few light drizzles and heavy rains come at me, but I know spring is near. I've almost made it, and that’s all that matters.

“The poison leaves bit by bit, not all at once. Be patient. You are healing.”

— Yasmin Mogahed

(suffering the clear and obvious ramifications of my voluntary actions) once again god torments me for no purpose but sick amusement

idc

I don't care

I draw hard lines in the sand

Only to watch them swept up by waves

I don't care

I say to myself as I watch you

And her do the same things we did

I don't care

I tell myself as I see

your name on my screen

I don't care

I think as the songs fill my ears

And your face fills my mind

I don't care

I tell my friends

when you come up in a conversation

Because to admit

the opposite is weakness

It's giving in to you

It's disappointing myself

It's all the times

I went running back to you

when I knew exactly how it would end.

In a twisted knot

begging to be untangled

In nothing more than grey,

nothing more than ashes and dust.

I don't care

I don't care

I don't care

I repeat

Until the words lose their meaning

Until you're nothing

but a faded photograph

Until I can't remember

the exact sound of your voice

Until I can't recall

the things we used to talk about

Until you're nothing

but an afterthought.

If you made a list of people you trusted, would you put your name down?

- NF, Only

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”

— Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower.