Knistertüte

I wish friends held hands more often, like the children I see on the streets sometimes. I’m not sure why we have to grow up and get embarrassed about it.

A dream dirty and bruised is better than no dream at all.

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

We often want it so badly that we ruin it before it begins. Over-thinking. Fantasizing. Imagining. Expecting. Worrying. Doubting. Just let it naturally evolve.

Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are.

Forget enough to get over it, remember enough so that it does not happen again. What is coming is better than what is gone.

It’s terrifying how quickly you turned from my bright future, into my painful past.

Stay away from the ones you love too much. Those are the ones who will kill you.

Missing you is both a physical and mental ache. Mentally, I want to tell you again, and again, and again that I long to be next to you. I want to whisper and whine in your ear about how you were absent for far too long. Physically, I want to feel your heart beating right next to mine. I want to fill all the spaces between your fingers with my own digits, and watch your entire countenance morph into one of happiness at how perfectly I fill in those crevices. I want to hear the sound of your laughter when I make a bad joke, because my attempt to make you smile is more humorous than the actual joke itself. I don’t want this with anyone else but you.

I can’t love anyone else before I love myself … I (kind of) broke that promise, the day I met you.

There is no limit to this kind of pain called love.

I couldn’t tell the difference between what was real and what I wanted to be real.