I will not be “famous,” “great.” I will go on adventuring, changing, opening my mind and my eyes, refusing to be stamped and stereotyped. The thing is to free one’s self: to let it find its dimensions, not be impeded.
“Sometimes it seems the harder you try to hold on to something or someone the more it wants to get away. You feel like some kind of criminal for having felt, for having wanted. For having wanted to be wanted. It confuses you, because you think that your feelings were wrong, and it makes you feel so small because it’s so hard to keep it inside when you let it out and it doesn’t come back. You’re left so alone that you can’t explain.”
I know that you are far away so I create a shadow of you in my head and you follow me everywhere I go.
I think I’m better off not liking anyone. I can’t tell when I actually like someone or if it’s just a simple crush. I can’t tell because my heart doesn’t grow warm nor do I feel butterflies in my tummy. I can’t tell when I really like someone or not, but I feel like I haven’t really liked anyone even though I said I have. I feel giggly here and there, but it’s never to a point where I feel myself having my heart grow warm or faster. It’s never to a point where I feel butterflies in my tummy. When I like someone, none of the typical symptoms seem to appear. So, I can’t tell when I like someone or not. It’s just like my heart went completely numb and I haven’t felt those type of feelings for so long.
sometimes it is the worst kind of pain to look at someone you have given yourself to, every inch of skin and every iota of pure love you have in you, and see a certain ignorance in their gaze. when you have dedicated a part of your life to someone so bravely and so selflessly, to see them waver or toy with the trust you have put in them can make you lose your faith in a lot of things. it can make you lose your faith in finding happiness, and that is the most dangerous and inaccurate path to go down of all.
there is nothing to say anymore. this world moves like the waves of a ocean, fragile yet heavy as i get pulled under.
you are standing on the water’s edge, watching my skin turn to blue. slowly the ocean floor is coming to me, your voice becomes a whisper, memories turn to ghosts.
you asked what death feels like, it’s the feeling of your thumb smoothing over the inside of my wrist, the tingle of lips close to a kiss.
you asked me if i would be afraid, and now that i can feel, i am. and now that i am without you, i am.