0. Work hard, play hard. Reward yourself. Let loose. Enjoy the show while you can. Life is such a beautiful thing. Bask in the amber of the moment and hold yourself with integrity and pride. Be yourself. Live the life you want to.

i want my music so loud that i cant hear my life crashing and burning

angry and quite offended that you don’t have a crush on me

8 Ways To Say I Love You
1. Spit it into her voicemail, a little slurred and sounding like the shot whiskey you downed for courage. Feel as ashamed as you do walking into work in last night’s clothes. Wake up cringing for days, waiting for her to mention it.
2. Sigh it into her mouth, wedged in between teeth and tongues. Don’t even let your lips move when you say it, ever so lightly, into the air. Maybe it was just an exhalation of ecstasy.
3. Buy her flowers. Buy her chocolate. Buy her a teddy bear, because that’s what every romantic comedy has taught you. Take her out to a nice restaurant where neither of you feel comfortable and spend the whole night clearing your throat and tugging at your tie. Feel like your actions are more suited to a proposal than the simple confession of something you’ve always known.
4. Whisper it into her hair in the middle of the night, after you’ve counted the space between her breaths and are certain she’s asleep. Shut your eyes quickly when she shifts toward you in askance. Maybe you were just sleep whispering.
5. Blurt it out in the middle of an impromptu dance party in the kitchen, as clumsy as your two left feet. When time seems to freeze, hastily tack on “in that shirt” or “when you make your award-winning meatballs” or, if you are feeling particularly brave, “when we do this.” Resume dancing and pretend you don’t feel her eyes on you the rest of the night.
6. Write her a letter in which the amount of circumnavigating and angst could rival Mr. Darcy’s. Debate where to leave it all day – on her pillow? In her coat pocket? Throw it away in frustration, conveniently leaving it face up in the trashcan, her name scrawled on the front in your sloppy handwriting. Let her wonder if you meant it.
7. Wait until something terrible has happened and you can’t not tell her anymore. Wait until she almost gets hit by a car crossing Wabash against the light and after you are done cursing at the shit-for-brains cab drivers in this city, realize you are actually just terrified of living without her. Tell her with your hands shaking.
8. Say it deliberately, your tongue a springboard for every syllable. Over coffee, brushing your teeth side-by-side, as you turn off the light to go to sleep – it doesn’t matter where. Do not adorn it with extra words like “I think” or “I might.” Do not sigh heavily as if admitting it were a burden instead of the most joyous thing you’ve ever done. Look her in the eyes and pray, heart thumping wildly, that she will turn to you and say, “I love you too.”
― R. MCKINLEY, DEC. 1, 2012

Deciding whether or not to trust a person is like deciding whether or not to climb a tree because you might get a wonderful view from the highest branch or you might simply get covered in sap and for this reason many people choose to spend their time alone and indoors where it is harder to get a splinter.
― Lemony Snicket'

You do care. You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.”
— J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

“We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.”

“I laughed and said, Life is easy. What I meant was, Life is easy with you here, and when you leave, it will be hard again.”
— Miranda July, No One Belongs Here More Than You

Will I be something?
Am I something?
And the answer comes:
I already am.
I always was.
And I still have time to be.
— Anis Mojgan

“All life is just a progression toward, and then a recession from one phrase — I love you.”
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Offshore Pirat

“I don’t suppose I really know you very well - but I know you smell like the delicious damp grass that grows near old walls and that your hands are beautiful opening out of your sleeves and that the back of your head is a mossy sheltered cave when there is trouble in the wind and that my cheek just fits the depression in your shoulder.”
— Zelda Fitzgerald

“i lied.
i told you i was not afraid to love you.
then i walked away.
loved you.”
— Nayyirah Waheed, i have spent my whole life alone. loving you. | when we choose fear

We don’t belong to each other.
We belong together.
— James Galvin, Blue and Green

“My beerdrunk soul is sadder than all the dead christmas trees of the world.”
— Charles Bukowski

“Everything carries me
to you, as if everything
that exists, aromas, lights, metals, were little
boats that sail toward
those isles of yours that wait for me.”
— Pablo Neruda

“Promise me you’ll never forget me because if I thought you would, I’d never leave.”
— A.A. Milne

“But everyone disappears, no matter who loves them.”
— David Eggers

“Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.”
— Arthur Miller

“We die to each other daily. What we know of other people is only our memory of the moments during which we knew them. And they have changed since then. To pretend that they and we are the same is a useful and convenient social convention which must sometimes be broken. We must also remember that at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.”
— T.S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party

“Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love.”
— Claude Monet

“I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday.”
— Lemony Snicket

most of us ask for advice when we know the answer but we want a different one.

O najważniejszych sprawach najtrudniej opowiedzieć. Są to sprawy, których się wstydzisz, ponieważ słowa pomniejszają je - słowa powodują, iż rzeczy, które wydawały się nieskończenie wielkie, kiedy były w twojej głowie, po wypowiedzeniu kurczą się i stają zupełnie zwyczajne. Jednak nie tylko o to chodzi, prawda? Najważniejsze sprawy leżą zbyt blisko najskrytszego miejsca twej duszy, jak drogowskazy do skarbu, który wrogowie chcieliby ci skraść. Zdobywasz się na odwagę i wyjawiasz je, a ludzie dziwnie na ciebie patrzą, w ogóle nie rozumiejąc co powiedziałeś, albo dlaczego uważałeś to za tak ważne, że prawie płakałeś mówiąc. Myślę, że to jest najgorsze, kiedy tajemnica pozostaje niewyjawiona, nie z braku słuchacza, lecz z braku zrozumienia.
Stephen King “Skazani na Shawshank” 
Jesteś numerem jeden dla mnie, zanim zaczniesz się wahać, zobacz gdzie jestem, daję Ci wszystko, nadal niezmiennie mogę być wszędzie, a wciąż jestem blisko.
Co było, nie zniknie, nie przeminie z wiatrem,
Zakotwiczyło w sercu, stało się teatrem,
Teatrem wspomnień, których nie da się zapomnieć

all i see is what i don’t want and all i want is what i don’t see. 
no one loses anyone because no one owns anyone. that is the true experience of freedom; having the most important thing in the world without owning it. 
perhaps they were right putting love into books. perhaps it could not live anywhere else. 
i wish i wore red lipstick more and broke boys hearts daily but sadly boys break my heart and i look bad in red lipstick
let’s get drunk at midnight, listen to our favorite songs and kiss so much that our lips burn 
the worst thing about falling to pieces is that humans can do it so quietly. 
i lived my life always feeling the strange but strong urge in my heart to be more than just wanted, to be more than just a desirable but replacable object in a collection of another. 
if people sat outside and looked at the stars each night, i bet they’d live a lot differently. when you look into infinity, you realize there are more important things than what people do all day. 
I hope you guys realise you’ve got less then a month now to confess your love for me and be my valentine.
i want to be alone…with someone else who wants to be alone. 
the path isn’t a straight line; it’s a spiral. you continually come back to things you thought you understood and see deeper truths. 
there’s a melody inside your laughter that touches me in a way nothing else ever did.
life is not somewhere waiting for you, it is happening in you. it is not in the future as a goal to be arrived at, it is herenow, this very moment — in your breathing, circulating in your blood, beating in your heart. whatsoever you are is your life, and if you start seeking meaning somewhere else, you will miss it. man has done that for centuries. 

but then there’s the people, the world, telling you over and over who you are and what you actually like and who you actually want to be, and so that real voice in your head speaks softer every day, until one day you wake up and it’s gone. 
beautiful things don’t ask for attention 

and you became like the coffee,
in the deliciousness, and the bitterness and the addiction.

again, i can see the seasons changing right in front of me but still find the colour of your eyes in the earliest of sunsets. nothing ever really changes, i guess. 

I used to be a straight A student
Now I’m not even straight hahahah

you blink with more passion than some people make love with. 

perhaps the fact
that i chased a boy
who ripped me to shreds
says a lot more
about me
than it did about him.

there’s a reason i started writing: i still needed you to be touched by me, even when i physically couldn’t. 

the people who are meant to be in your life will always gravitate back towards you, no matter how far they wander.

the longest distance on earth: not from north to south; it’s when i stand in front of you and you ignore me 

i went into the desert to forget about you. but the sand was the color of your hair. the desert sky was the color of your eyes. there was nowhere i could go that wouldn’t be you.

i have galaxies hidden between my bones and i will love you until the stars burn out

what are the chances you’d ever meet someone like that? he wondered. someone you could love forever, someone who would forever love you back? and what did you do when that person was born half a world away? the math seemed impossible.

i could’ve lived a thousand lifes; and chose you out of billions

even in dead silence 
your name echoes 
in the way it always 
draws me back to you

In my dreams I can see you
I can tell you how I feel
In my dreams I can hold you
And it feels so real
Anathema - One Last Goodbye

"And in a blink of an eye, you were gone.”

"I see your face in every lost pair of eyes.”

"Being in love is the most humane type of torture.”

The butterflies you gave me have died off from suffocation.

"I missed summer so I went swimming in your eyes.”

"My heart has to break to become stronger; like bones.”

"And while I held your hand, you held my heart.”

"Why talk about ‘tomorrow’ when you only have one ‘today’?

"I brake the same way glass does just more silent.”

I like being alone but I’m afraid of being lonely.
I like the night but I’m afraid of the dark.
I like adventures but I’m afraid of getting lost.
I like the idea of falling in love but I’m afraid of loving.
There are many things I’m afraid of but I can finally say
I like life but I am not afraid of living.

"How many friendships meant love, but they didn’t see it? And how many “How are you?” meant “I miss you”, but they didn’t get it?"

"Who leaves me alone doesn’t have the right to ask what’s wrong with me when he comes back."

The memories that don’t die, kill."

There’s no news except that I miss you." 

"I don’t love Winter, but I wish it’d lend me its cold heart."

Before I’ve met you, I was wishing to meet you.
And after meeting you, I was wishing to never be separated from you.
And after being separated from you, I lost the desire to wish for ever."

Do the absent ones know the taste of waiting?" 

"How many times do I have to break the glass and play with the pieces of broken glass, and go out in the cold with summer clothing, and talk to strangers and hand-shake with the thieves, so that you worry about me and come?"

Love comes to the world with a word, and dies with a situation."

"Hate me, I have no problem with that.
But don’t ever love me, while it’s untrue."

"She said : You’ll forget me?
I said : I won’t.
Two years have passed I still didn’t forget her but she did."

In winter, some voices are like coats." 

"All roads lead to Rome.
That’s why when I loved you, I thought you were Rome.
Because all the roads, no matter how much I tried to trick, led nowhere but to you."

"I will always remember you."
The biggest lie that lovers tell in the last episode of love."

"It happens that he gets on the computer just to breathe your presence from the “Online” on the chat, and leaves."

Sometimes, I think about telling you “Good morning”, then I remember that there’s no good or mornings between us.

Every face that I see hurts me, because it’s not yours." 

The separation doesn’t hurt as mush as its reason." 

"If your letter died in their mail, and you didn’t get an answer,
You should know that you died in their hearts, before the letter did."

Don’t hang someone’s heart so you can forget who hanged yours."

"Inside every person you know, there’s a person you don’t know."

"Two types of people who can’t look at you in the eyes:
Someone trying to hide a lie,
And somone trying to hide a love."

What hurts the most,
Is when you trust someone blindly, and that person proves to you that you are really blind."

"In the time of separation, “I hate you!” means that I have loved you to the point of hating the life after you." 

They say, tongues don’t have bones. Weird,
If we look at all the hearts that they break."

"We knew very well that it was the last goodbye,
But we insisted in flattering and saying : See you next time."
-Ghada al-Samman

everyone tell me abt ur day. how did your eyeliner go? did u flirt with somebody? drink enough water? make a white man nervous?

"   Today I saw cancer, cigarettes, and shortness of breath. This is why I walk to the ocean. Swim with sharks and jellyfish. I may never get this chance again. This is why if you want to kiss, you should kiss. If you want to cry, you should cry. And if you want to live, you should live. You don’t have to love me. You already did.   

"   You had skyscrapers and statues 
sitting in your mouth,
You think you broke me?
I only kissed you when I was homesick.
I only cried when you left because I missed the city,
not you.   " 

People always say that it hurts at night
and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am
is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken.
But sometimes
it’s 9am on a tuesday morning
and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up
And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss him so much
you don’t know what to do with your hands.

"   the first time we kissed, it was the last day
of august. it was as if i was biting into the sun
—burnt tongue and hot plasma oozing from
my lips. you apologize. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”
(over and over and over) until i kiss you again
and again and again. you told me that you
were trying to kiss the stars—crush the shine and
lick the twinkle off of my fingers.
(over and over again)  

"   you’re acidic,
you’ve made weeds grow inside of me,
you’ve made me rot black,
on nights like this, i read your
messages and i cry myself
to sleep   " 

never be afraid to say “no” even after you’ve said “yes”
if someone tells you graffiti isn’t art, prove them wrong
remember people by their eye color not their clothes
you’re allowed to like dark chocolate with tangerines
don’t lie that you don’t have a lighter when you really do
turn your phone off every once in a while and find the moon
if you want a tattoo, don’t let anyone tell you not to get it
if you ever find yourself at the graveyard, read the names   " 

ou’ll just know
she’ll wear
brown mascara and yellow nail polish,
her lips
will be chapped
splotches of burgundy
will linger on her cheeks like decorations,
her diet will consist of pretzels and diet soda,
she won’t know the difference between
home and heart but she damn
well will know the difference between
the color blue and coral,
and when you ask, is it raining?
she’ll say,
that’s the sky
crying for
you   " 

i know you thought of something

i know you remember
how the air touched you when
i whispered
i don’t love you

"   It hurts, listening to your name.   " 

   I decided on you, don’t you get that? I decided on you. I don’t want to go fucking other people and then walk around feeling thrilled and then sad, or empty, or whatever. I like the smell of your hair, and I like the sound of your voice, and I fucking decided on you.   " 

Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep. You are in California, Australia, wide awake. Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone. Maybe love is not ready for you. Maybe you are not ready for love. Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type. Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce–love looks older now, but just as beautiful as you remember. Maybe love is only there for a month. Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit.
Maybe love stays. Maybe love can’t. Maybe love shouldn’t.
Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to, and love leaves exactly when love must. When love arrives say, “Welcome, make yourself comfortable.” If love leaves, ask her to leave the door opened behind her. Turn off the music. Listen to the quiet. Whisper, “Thank you for stopping by.”

"   Alcohol tastes better when I’m tasting it from your lips   " 

"   Forgive. Forget. Fake it. Chin up. Wear lipstick, make lists, make sure your voicemail isn’t full. Mix protein shakes, send timely thank you notes, sip drinks more slowly, stare at adults’ eyebrows, smile without dimples, develop perfect posture. Be gracious, be kind, eliminate self-pity. Look in the mirror and shift your internal monologue from ‘How do I look?’ to ‘This is my face,’ from ‘What the hell am I doing?’ to ‘This is my life.’ Capitalize your emails, read the news, walk briskly, stay focused, and never, ever let on that you are somewhat lost and sometimes lonely and so completely confused (and would someone please just let me know what it is I’m supposed to do next, where exactly I’m supposed to go–). Just keep going. Go, and do not stop.   " 

"   In 20 years I won’t remember today; that scares me.   " 

"   Until you heal the wounds of your past, you are going to bleed. You can bandage the bleeding with food, with alcohol, with drugs, with work, with cigarettes, with sex; But eventually, it will all ooze through and stain your life. You must find the strength to open the wounds, Stick your hands inside, pull out the core of the pain that is holding you in your past, the memories and make peace with them.   " 

"   I said goodbye again 
sucking up all that was left of her into the 
little that was left of me. 
I said, don’t look for me again. fuck it. 
we are all lost. goodbye, goodbye.  

"   Girls who run with the wolves aren’t here for boys to love.   " 

 Dump the toxic people out of your life. Get them gone. Kick them to the curb. Stop maintaining relationships with people that make you feel guilty about things that you like, that make you feel shitty about yourself, that put you down, that don’t fucking support you, that are mean. You just get those people and shove them out of your life. Delete them off of Facebook, break it down easily. Just kind of fizzle out with the contact. Let it be like almost as if it might be growing apart. Just get rid of those people, because instead of just maintaining these “relationships” with people for the sake of just being polite or civil, you can be civil without having people that you can’t stand in your life and you’ll be so much happier. You need to stop maintaining relationships with toxic people because it’s just not good for you and it’s not worth any of your time.   " 

 I remember crying over you and I don’t mean a couple of tears and I’m blue. I’m talking about collapsing and screaming at the moon.   

When you ask why is it that I stay up at times like 3:27 am or 5:43 am
I would always give them the same painless response “I’m not tired.”
But how do you define
The devilish thoughts at 3 am that linger your mind forming the image of what you did against what you should have done
Because everything you trust in is from your right choices and your beaten down moments
Moments are just memories
And memories are just something to haunt us
Something to remind us for where our feet stand
But how do you define
The weakness that colds your lifeless body at 5 am
It’s not the cold where
you fell off your sled when you were just seven years old
experiencing the fleeting rush of happiness
It’s the cold that numbs you
The cold that makes your rose red blood stick to every open cut in your body that’s trying to repair each blow of brutal damage to your fragile body
How do I utter those thoughts
How do I tell you that you are the reason I can not close my eyes.

if you want to be beautiful
buy flowers and take
them to the cemetery 

if you want to be free
write a letter to the person
you hate most then realize
you do not hate them
at all

if you want to be wild
wake up at 6 AM, drink
hot coffee and watch the

if you want to be happy
smile at every person 
you see even if they aren’t

   No matter how good things are, there will always be solitary nights you spend in your bedroom, in a car, or in a party full of your closest friends when it feels like the walls are caving in.   " 

"Getting over it doesn’t mean forgetting it, it just means reducing the pain to a tolerable level, a level that doesn’t destroy you. I know that right now the idea of getting over it is unimaginable. It’s impossible, inconceivable, unthinkable. You don’t want to get over it. Why should you? It’s all you’ve got. You don’t want kind words, you don’t care what other people think or say, you don’t want to know how they felt when they lost someone, They’re no you, are they! They can’t feel what you feel. The only thing you want is the things you can’t have. It’s gone. Never coming back. No one know how that feels. No one know what it’s like to reach out and touch someone who isn’t there and will never be there again. No one knows the unifiable emptiness."

"We confess our little faults to persuade people that we have no large ones."

"It seemed like a great sign that we should meet again so soon. And whether or not it actually was a sign, the crucial thing is that we were both willing to see it as such."

But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you
I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it."

"Maybe she’d always been there. Maybe strangers enter your heart first and then you spent the rest of your life searching for them."

"It’s said it takes seven years to grow completely new skin cells. To think, this year I will grow into a body you never will have touched."

"There is the fear that you somehow neglected to say what was really yours to say" 

"I love like a leaky faucet or I love like a dam breaking. There is nothing in between."

"We don’t have to be defined by the things we did or didn’t do in our past. Some people allow themselves to be controlled by regret. Maybe it’s a regret, maybe it’s not. It’s merely something that happened."

"Oh, no. No, no. Not wrong. I’ve never known you to be wrong, Bessie. Your facts are always either untrue or exaggerated, but you’re never wrong - no, no."

I will let go of the past and accept the things that I cannot change. I will forgive, love, and embrace the unknown.
In 21 days I will be 21.
In 21 days, I won’t miss you anymore.

"Everyone else isn’t you. It turns out that’s a huge problem for me."

 I don’t want time to heal me. There’s a reason I’m like this. I want time to set me ugly and knotted with loss of you, marking me. I won’t smooth you away. I can’t say goodbye."

"Here is the riddle of love: Everything it gives to you, it takes away."

"We don’t say nothing more. What else is there to say? Everything and nothing. You can’t say everything, so you don’t say nothing."

I’ve been taught by my mother that love is another type of cancer. The kind that kills you slowly, by infecting your organs one by one until it turns your body against itself.
And maybe there is some truth in that. I grew up watching parts of my mother disappear with each and every lover, shrinking into herself like a new sweater tumbling in the wash. That’s why I let my spine stiffen, my tongue sharpen. I built myself a suit of armor made up of excuses and wore it every day.
Please don’t come any closer. I’m fragile underneath. It’s better for both of us if you leave.
But then came you. And piece by piece, I shed my armor.
I know you can hurt me, but I trust you not to. I don’t want you to go. Please stay.
My mother would be surprised to see you and I together because instead of fading away, I become more of what I am meant to be.
I still hesitate when I say I love you because the words feel foreign in my mouth. Sometimes I don’t call back because I forget that I have someone waiting for me at home. But I am learning.
So maybe love is neither the sickness nor the cure. Maybe love is simply the catalyst.

"The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a tellar but for want of an understanding ear."
— Stephen King, Different Seasons

"It’s time to train yourself
to sleep alone again
and it’s so fucking hard."

When you finally let go, it is like opening your front door and seeing yourself standing there again.
Welcome home, it’s been so long.

There were always warning signs but you were blinded by hope and and thoughts like, 'Maybe this time it'll be different'. You chose to stay inside a burning building until the smoke became too thick to clear and the foundation began to crack. But now it was time to get yourself out.
No one tells you, though, that trying to move on is a kind of death that you inflict upon yourself. People always make it sound so easy, as if by emptying the stuff in your house, you can empty yourself of the love you still feel.
The memories you have like to coddle you. Laughter and late nights drunk on the feeling of being young and infatuated. They deposited in you the way sand deposits onto wet summer skin. They stick on you in the most unconventional places, underneath fingernails and knobby knees. But you let them stay because it reminds you of how you were once in the water and the sun was beating on your neck.
You now know that was how you ruin yourself.
Before the word us turned into something singular, everything had already changed. You look back, really look back, and you see that he is not the same. And neither are you. So you release the fists clenching onto the past and you take off your rose-colored glasses.
You used to mistake the silhouette on the wall for yourself. Used to think of yourself as a stray cat scratching on his door, waiting to be let in again. Not anymore.
It takes time for you to realize that your life with him is not juxtaposed. It’s not as simple as a before and after. He is just a detour on your journey. The destination is still there, waiting for you.
When you finally let go, it is like opening your front door and seeing yourself standing there again.
Welcome home, it’s been so long.

"The devil doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. He comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.

"Just because one person’s problem is less traumatic than another’s doesn’t mean they’re required to hurt less."

"You cannot use someone else’s fire. You can only use your own. And in order to do that, you must first be willing to believe that you have it."
— Audre Lorde

"When I see you,
I pretend that nothing
ever happened.
But the truth is
it did,
and always will mean
to me."

But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human."
— Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse Five

"You are the best parts of all the songs I love."