#nighttime thoughts

obsessed with the fact that on tumblr you can just upload a post from a different social media and someone can reply with ANOTHER post from ANOTHER social media

I LOOOVEEE the complex writing of Henry Bowers I could go on and on

there’s something so peaceful and beautiful about being awake when the rest of the world is asleep

I’m afraid this may be the melodramatic part of me speaking, but I refuse to die in a hospital. My goal in life is to die of old age, but not in an old age home. If I am to get sick in my later years, I’d rather you let me die, then take me to the cold, concrete block my mother spent her years working at. It’s horrible there, smelling of bleach and feeling like death. I watched my grandpa decay in a nursing home in his final years, and I couldn’t handle that. At our last few visits with him before the coma, I would walk around his floor. I was tired of the questions, of him not knowing who we were. Grandpa used to be my favourite person, then, he turned into a shell of the man he used to be. This happened last December. I was miserable, yet I couldn’t cry. I only cried at the funeral, when my mother had me read a bible verse. It was a hard couple of months for the all of us, and I would hate for my family to have to go through that. So, please, if I were to get sick, don’t put me into any medically induced comas. Don’t make me decay in my frail body, just take me out to the feild and tell me to look at the flowers while you put me down to rest.

Nothing scarier than an Alexa talking to itself in the dark at 1 am really loud and you're the only one in the house that wakes up and notices...