i wish i could open my heart as book, so everyone could understand what i feel. but i know, at the same time, that there's no words to what i feel,so, in that way the book would have to be with only images. but i'm not sure if those would pretty and easy to understand images. and i know nobody would want to read it, so i just keep it as locked up as cheast that the very owner doesn't know where he left the key.

It's hard to sit back and watch your life pass by, while everyone is enjoying it and replacing you. It hurts the most that I have this bunch of feeling that I can't share 'cause I'm just not able to do it, and 'cause I know people would think I'm stupid :/

memories are the only things we can hold on to. but memories can be so comforting and so destructive at the same time. and then we think new memories are going to make us forget the old ones, but they don't. we keep reminiscing for ever

eu vi no tumblr "you were so fucking great" e pensei:

you were so fucking great.. WE were so fucking great.
I don't get it. I don't get why we can't be fucking great again

sometimes i wonder if i disappeared people would notice it

i kind of think they won't

some things are simply worthless but you rather pretend they're not - that's called hope- so you can feel ok for a little bit, but when reality hits you, it hits hard and harder than you thought. it hurts

you're not mine, you'll never be. and i'm sorry for that, it's all i can be

i need you to find out the best part of me, 'cause i'm starting to think i don't have a good one anymore :/