⚜┊seek hazardous adventures

It was one of those rare and beautiful days in winter when England remembers that there is a sun. The start of the day, pale but nevertheless still splendid, was setting in the horizon, glorifying at once the heavens and the sea with bands of fire, and casting upon the towers and the old houses of the city a last ray of gold which made the windows sparkle like the reflection of a conflagration.

You know how everyone’s always saying seize the moment? I don’t know, I’m kind of thinking it’s the other way around, you know, like the moment seizes us.

I know that I would never jump, so why can’t I step back from the ledge?

the older I get, the less patience I have for the idea that a story is inherently complex or #deep because it has a bittersweet or tragic ending, or that people who like for things to end on a happy note are simple-minded weaklings who can’t handle harsh realities and mature storytelling. 

I kept drinking because it was the only time I felt alive. I kept drinking because I needed to stop thinking of jumping off the edge. I wanted to drown myself in something other than the melancholy feeling that surrounded me. I kept drinking to forget about the scars that covered my body, sometimes I think there’s more scar than skin. I kept drinking to forget all the places his hands had been even though I said no. I kept drinking because sometimes I didn’t want to feel alive, I wanted numbness. I wanted to feel numb and blurry all over.

Sometimes solutions aren’t so simple, sometimes goodbye’s the only way.