Żad­na wiel­ka miłość nie umiera do końca. Możemy strze­lać do niej z pis­to­letu lub za­mykać w naj­ciem­niej­szych za­kamar­kach naszych serc, ale ona jest spryt­niej­sza – wie, jak przeżyć

Sama nie wiem kim jestem w Twoich oczach, może wcale mnie w nich nie ma i spokojnie śnisz po nocach.

I okazuje się, że nikt nas nie okłamał, tylko my zbyt dużo sobie wyobrażaliśmy.

Cokolwiek pomiędzy ludźmi kończy się – znaczy: nigdy nie zaczęło się. Gdyby prawdziwie się zaczęło – nie skończyłoby się. Skończyło się, bo nie zaczęło się. Cokolwiek prawdziwie się zaczyna – nigdy się nie kończy.

Zupełnie nie wiemy co chcemy osiągnąć tak uparcie do siebie milcząc.

Zdjęcie: /E.

Pamiętaj, nigdy nie możesz poddawać się w połowie drogi. Jeśli już zaczęłaś coś robić, skończ to. Niezależnie z jakim skutkiem, czy efektem. Podjęłaś się jakiegoś zadania to doprowadź je do końca. Nie rezygnuj i nie mów, że nie warto. Nie odpuszczaj, gdy wiesz, że możesz wygrać. Nie wmawiaj sobie, że nie dasz rady. Nabierz powietrza w płuca i brnij do przodu. Stań oko w oko z własnymi słabościami. Później uderz i tym samym rozpocznij walkę. A następnie ją wygraj, bo stać Cię na to

Nie marnuj życia dążąc do czegoś bezsensownego

Porażka jest jedynie szansą na to, aby zacząć jeszcze raz – inteligentniej.

everybody starts caring when it’s too late. ▼

I’ve been catching myself saying “It’s not worth it” way too often. I think it’s a little unhealthy to be so apathetic

“shit it’s 2 a.m.” i say every day at 2 a.m. as if i am surprised

I’ve always been scared of people getting tired of me, so I make sure to pretend I’m tired of them first before they leave.

I hope when you die you get to see your stats like how many times you laughed or told a lie or kissed or how many people loved you and how many people hated you and what you meant to people
I kind of want to see this now

If school isn’t a place to sleep then home isn’t a place to study.

I care too much or I care too little. I care for the wrong people and neglect the ones who are there for me.


Marie-Helene Bertino, Safe as Houses

your story reminds me too much of my own and every smile is accompanied by a little sadness, a little bitterness, and a lot of memories that I’m desperately trying to bury.

don’t be mean to me because I will remember it for exactly forever

moment of silence for all my wasted potential

at least i run faster than internet explorer

it’s really difficult being a lazy perfectionist

i want world peace but there are people i want to kill first

I will not tell you our love story, because — like all real love stories — it will die with us, as it should

If I have to constantly beg for your attention, eventually I won’t want it anymore.

Because I am tired of trying, and caring about people that no longer do. Enough. I am exhausted of being the one always doing what I can in order to keep people in my life. It’s your turn this time. 

 But I guess in a way, I broke some promises. Promises I made half blind. Infatuation blinded me and it made me say things even I didn’t believe in. But at the time I did, I held high hopes for the future and now everything’s shifted and I don’t even know where I’m headed anymore. I hate to admit this, but you were too special.

i’d dress nicer but i dont have the money or body

really liking someone kinda sucks because you’re either really happy or really sad

my only talent is getting jealous when I have no right to 

do you ever get random bursts of confidence and plan to do something then later wither in shyness

if i dont text back its becuase i replied in my mind but was too lazy to physically reply and im really sorry im the worst kind of person

I swear if I got the chance to kiss you, I’d make it the most passionate and spontaneous kiss you’d ever experience, one you’ll never forget and one you’ll fall in love with me for. If only I had a chance.

I have so many plans for us.

sometimes i wish i can like texts so i dont have to text back

i think im falling for you… maybe wintering.. summering perhaps

I should be in bed, but I’m not. An autobiography

Me every night: I don't need to sleep. 
Me every morning: I need to sleep for 3 days straight.

let’s be friends with benefits. the benefits? you get to be friends with me

which is messier my life or my hair

asking your murderer to clear your internet history for you

you’re gonna regret not dating me after I get hot

the benefit of knowing me: you can stand beside me and look 100 times more attractive than you actually are.

if you ever leave my door open and i have to get up and close it myself just know that’s me closing the door on our relationship forever

Everything passes. Nobody gets anything for keeps. And that’s how we’ve got to live.

“There are only so many times that you can utter ‘It does not hurt’ before it begins to hurt even more than the hurt.”

“I have so much to tell you, the problem isn’t that I’m running out of time, I’m running out of room, there’s too much to express. I’m sorry.”

“But sometimes we get sad about things and we don’t like to tell other people that we are sad about them. We like to keep it a secret. Or sometimes we are sad but we don’t really know we are sad. So we say we aren’t sad. But really we are.”

“‘It was a mistake,’ you said. ‘But the cruel thing was, it felt like the mistake was mine, for trusting you.’”

“When I looked at you, my life made sense. Even the bad things made sense. They were necessary to make you possible.”

Perhaps the easiest people to fall in love with are those about whom we know nothing

Someone once asked me, “Why do you insist on taking the hard road?” I replied, “Why do you assume I see two roads?

really real.

I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. Even when I hated you.

I am done with pretending that my pulse is something that only you can keep alive.

im 500% done with today and about 37% done with tomorrow already

If someone ever tells you a certain song is important to them you should turn it up and lay on your bed and close your eyes and really listen to it even if its 10 minutes long because at the end you will know that person much better I think

We can make mistakes in life, we can make mistakes that change our life or we can make mistakes that end our life."


beautiful sinners

depression blog, i follow back similar

I keep forgetting that people I know follow me. 

I don’t want to be skinny so guys will like me. I want to be skinny so I will like me.

whenever i give advice to someone i say ‘idk’ like 5 times a sentence because i’m so afraid they’ll follow my advice and ruin their life so yeah i can never seem to sure



I said something once and it didn’t really go very well


(via too often, too much, and too little | Flickr - Photo Sharing!)



my favorite is when a song you haven’t heard in years comes on and you still know every single word

it’s easy to say “image isn’t everything” when you’re beautiful and you feel beautiful. it’s easy to say “size doesn’t matter” when you’re thin or happy with your appearance. inadequacy is a very difficult thing to deal with and it is a really horrible feeling to look in the mirror and hate what you see. so I wish that everyone and society and media would just stop fucking telling girls what to do or be or feel altogether.

Writing a list of ways I could be better
and writing a suicide note
are the same thing

I think my suicide note would say,
“Didn’t we all know it would end this way?”

I don’t want to be alive anymore,
and all anyone can tell me is,
“I love you”
(I wish that mattered)

If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.


a good enough reason. by chelsea dirck on Flickr.


sem título by Christina Penland on Flickr.

Making you regret what you did to me is not ‘me winning’. It’s everyone still losing.


Man of A Thousand Faces - Regina Spektor

is the only war
we can afford

I’m not drunk yet, but we haven’t
spoken in months now
and I wanted to tell you that I wanted to cry
because, because 
you know exactly why.
And, I guess I’m calling because
only you understand
how that would break my heart.

this poem made me feel a bit sick

The only thing that’s more frustrating than pretending you don’t exist is wondering if you do the same with me…
or if you’re really just not pretending.
April 16, 2013
and until then, I won’t be able to feel a thing

there is no such thing
as a forbidden love.
If being with you
means being in the wrong;
then I guess I’ve sinned my entire life.

I am only as weak as I want to be
and if I have to, I will do whatever it takes
to get you to love me.


"Give me something worth fighting for."

You hold an absence
at your center,
as if it were a life.

"I know not the when
or the why of all of this,
I just know it’s you."

"I can’t breathe with these words in my mouth."

i existed, but never with you.

I would burn down every
door to find you again. I would
tear through every layer of
hell, screaming with my mouth
full of light

i’m not famous i just have internet access

The places we lost are the places we found

It’s so interesting thinking about who you find attractive and who you are attracted to. how you can appreciate the aesthetics of a human being and find them beautiful under certain lights and how you are intimidated at first at their stark and raw symmetry and their colors and their curves and feel intimidated by them. and then you get to know them and their soft parts and suddenly everything else falls away. you get to know what’s beneath the skin and what they are made out of and suddenly you stop seeing what they look like altogether and just think of them in colors and in words and in smaller and smaller bits. you start to love them for the way they hold themselves in their own pockets. you start to love them for the way you can tell they’ll have laugh lines when they’re older. their two crooked front teeth. the way someone looks when they forget they’re a body for a second, when they’re blissfully happy, when they love you.

i don’t know whether to feel relieved or sad about the fact that my memories of you have been fading; that my love for you has been slowly slipping through my fingers.

That’s the trouble with loving a wild thing: You’re always left watching the door.

I could tolerate uncertainty with ease if I only knew for certain we’d be together when the uncertainty was over.

I don’t miss you terribly. I hardly know you’re gone. I don’t lie awake in the long dark night, listening for your breathing

I notice you, I want to say. Even when no one else does, I do. I will.

i wanted my life to change
but  i still feel empty at night
and my friends still don’t feel like real friends
and you still don’t love me
and then 
I realised the only thing I could change
was myself

wow keep acting like you’re not in love with me 
see what happens , i dare you

the hardest part isn’t the reality
that we aren’t together
it’s having to convince myself
with every new morning
that i don’t care,
that you don’t care.

i’m running out of ways
to admit
that i hate myself
for still loving you.

i wish we spoke more
so i could tell you everything

maybe i was asking too much
imagining a future, or reality
where you thought of me
as much as i think of you
because at this point
i would die for the reassurance
that you’re thinking of me at al

i wanted to tell you
but couldn’t.

i just want to sleep
and pretend that
today never happened
because it hardly didi just want to sleep
and pretend that
today never happened
because it hardly did

i knew you’d become my yesterdays
from the way you said “i’ll always stay”.

Whenever I speak with you, I end up dying more, a little more.

I have so much I want to tell you, and nowhere to begin.

sometimes i want to call you and ask if you remember different memories but they aren’t even big memories, just days we existed together, and i think you’d say no

It took a long time for me to stop wanting to call you everytime something good or bad happened. 
I still want to, I just have better self control and I know you don’t care.

But as I continue living like this, I wonder what the point of living is.

I hate being so emotionally slutty. I need to stop loving everyone I have a long conversation with.

Looking back, I am surprised at how few scars I have. How I actually fucking survived myself.

You might enjoy that which destroys you until you are destroyed.

Sad thing is, you can still love someone and be wrong for them.

your love
is as fake
as a temporary
easy to remove,
but sometimes,
so utterly

If you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart.

’m not sorry
that i met you.
i’m not sorry
that i fell in love with you
when i knew that you
were miles away,
but mostly,
i’m not sorry
for the way things ended up
because i’d rather have you
one million miles away
than not being able
to have you at all.

This is a question
that I will never find the nerve
to answer.

I’d say that I’m tired of caring, but I’m not and I don’t want to lie to myself any longer.
I will have to face my past like it was paint on the wall
There are some friendships, that once broken, will never be able to be mended again. But I wonder then, was it ever a friendship to begin with? If it was so obviously propped up on a table that was already too weak to keep something from collapsing? I guess what I’ve been trying to say all along, is that I’m sorry, and even if you don’t want to accept my apology, at least call it a day and pretend that everything will be okay, sooner or later.

I bring up the past,
to make my future
feel better about itself.
But I need to learn
that my past
does not dictate
my future,
and my future
will be better off,
never hearing
from my past again.

So I will leave you with
three words,
that every person is able
to understand,
and make their own
assumption with —
I need you.

“Could have, should have, would have

i spend most of my time
wishing that i were with you,
as you’re wishing
you were with
someone else.

"Tell me, where was I wrong?"

I can’t remember
the last time
you told me
that you loved me,
and meant it.

"My mind has carried heavier things."

someone once told me
that you cannot miss
what you’ve never had
and if that’s the case,
why have i been yearning
for your presence
for as long as i have,
if you were never mine?

You want to live your life
out of vanity but you will never know
that you were born into a world
full of sins and mirrors,
and that sooner or later,
you were going to have to face yourself
and accept that there is no one like you.

I’ve loved someone like you,
once before.

If I weren’t in love with you,
then why would I spend
all of this time trying
to be close to you?
If you want me to,
I can wait for you.
I won’t complain
about the distance
because being inside
your arms for even a moment,
would be enough
for me to wait a lifetime.

you don’t have to ask
because i am already telling you.

"Good people end up in Hell because they can’t forgive themselves."

Does anyone ever get that feeling in your chest like when something sad happens like you can physically feel the pain and you feel your throat becoming thick and your words get caught and you cant really talk and you feel like crying but you cant and it just hurts

"When people are ready to, they change. They never do it before then, and sometimes they die before they get around to it. You can’t make them change if they don’t want to, just like when they do want to, you can’t stop them."

"Violence does not always take visible form, and not all wounds gush blood."

I’ve changed a lot, and I know I’ve changed. But the fact that you didn’t even realize I have goes to show just how little you’ve been paying attention. You never really knew me right from the start.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine.

People will hurt you. But you shouldn’t use that as an excuse to hurt someone back.

I missed you every hour. And you know what the worst part was? It caught me completely by surprise. I’d catch myself just walking around to find you, not for any reason, just out of habit, because I’d seen something that I wanted to tell you about or because I wanted to hear your voice. And then I’d realize that you weren’t there anymore, and every time, every single time, it was like having the wind knocked out of me.

my hobbies include having coffee and mental breakdowns

I allow you to hurt me.
Pretending that I don’t feel.
But you cut deep, I wince and you don’t see.
I stay because I am addicted to your
personal brand of hurt.
The kind of hurt that plays in the pit of your gut,
The kind of hurt that reminds you
that your hurting,
Every.Chance.It Gets..

I hope you miss me.
I hope you stand in the shower with the water as hot as it gets,
trying to wash the memory of me off your skin.
I hope you lay in bed at night and wish I was there.
I hope that when you are sitting alone that it over comes you all at once.
I hope you begin to hate my memory.
I hope that it grows into the inside of your lungs so that you can’t breathe without thinking of me.
I hope it hurts.
I hope when you are home,your peace is unsettled, because you felt more at home with me.I want you to sleep restlessly because you miss me.I want to haunt your thoughts.I want you to write me a hundred emails of which you will never send,
elling me how wrong you were.

I write to you,
and for you.
Edited and scripted,
and only halve truths.
If I wrote how I truly felt
the pages might catch fire.

"We’re all curious about what might hurt us."

I talk to you
in very much the same way 
I try to drink my coffee
before it turns cold