☼

women actually lounging

and looking hot while doing so

Alcohol traveling from bottles to veins.

They all secretly despise me, so I despise them back.

I lost my best friend months ago and didn’t even know

Life’s meant to leave marks on you.

Secret is just a word given for uncomfortable truths.

I can’t lose something I’ve never had. Can’t lose someone I never had.

It’s the flaws that attract our attention. We need the flaws.

He left me, and she left me, and nobody wanted me in the end.

Now there’s a word I love: us.

Anything for you, kid. Anything.

Because everything I feel is amplified with you. - The good is so fucking good, and the bad is… destructive.

Humanity is overrated.

He would not spot me in a crowd because he isn’t looking.

Love isn’t measured by obsession.

Do you ever - ever get fucking sick of your own thoughts?

Family is overrated. Friendship and love too, it’s all overrated. People say it gives life meaning - no, it doesn’t. It gives life baggage.

There are billions of people in the world. We can’t all be special.

Life hurts people.

How much it means to have someone who believes in you when everyone else has stopped.

He’s just another addiction to shake off.

Fuck, I’ll take anything but his tears. That’s the one thing I’ve never been able to stand: if he cries.

My imagination has always been all over the place.

The only people with complete artistic freedom are the ones without a record label.

I realized that I could… fuck up again and again, I could be ugly and hideous inside, but I would never take this world down with me.

The more I speak, the hollower I feel, but I force myself to go on.

It’s fucking cliché, but he’s special. He’s really fucking special.

And the indescribable loss is my home.

Nothing in this world is as selfish as utter selflessness.

We love and we cause pain. We cause pain because we love. It goes hand in hand.

You can’t force yourself to care more about someone than you do, so.

So we don’t even try to love someone else more. And maybe we could, maybe but - His taste, his laugh, his smile.

I’m not as unlucky as I’ve always pretended to be.

Sex is not a guarantee, it’s not a solution. It doesn’t make all the fucked up things go away, it doesn’t fix us. It feels good, and we’re just as broken afterwards.