Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t build character. It only hurts.

If my mouth don’t say it my face definitely will

I still like you, I’m just tired of trying.

Am I a good person? No. But do I try to be better every single day? Also no.

The first heartbreak is always the hardest, it feels like someone ripped your heart out of your chest. Then, as if only just realizing the monumental impact of their action, shoved it back into your chest before retreating. For weeks, perhaps even months, food has little taste, going out with your friends has no appeal, experiences just hold no merit to you any longer. You wake up, only to wish you were still asleep. It’s true, the first heartbreak may perhaps be the hardest thing you will ever have to experience. But the bright side is it will never be this hard ever again.

I feel like our society has always put such an emphasis on what’s ‘normal.’ To be different is unusual or seen as strange. But to be accepted unconditionally and to be able to express yourself as an individual through art is such a blessing.

“Can someone give this student a pencil, sharing is covalent bonding.”

You destroyed everything. You just came in and torched the place. You set fire to every part of me, even the parts I didn’t know existed. They burned and burned and even when my tears began to flood in, they were still alight. I think they always will be.

I wouldn’t break someone’s heart, they only have one. Bones, on the other hand, they have 206 of those.

People who don’t feel pain anymore are the most damaged.