thoughts in life

That’s how it starts. You notice the little things changing, the days seem longer, the nights seem quieter, you’re having more bad days then usual. At first you just brush it off, you come up with excuses. Mercury is in retrograde, we entered a parallel universe, you’re pms-ing, the list goes on. But then when you’re out with all of your friends you notice that you didn’t laugh as hard as you usually do. And when the boy with the bright smile in your math class looks at you, you’re heart doesn’t skip a beat. You know something is changing. You know, but you pretend not to. Because you don’t want to admit that it’s happening to you. Not me, you think, I’m fine. You don’t want to admit that you’re not okay. That you feel like you’re drowning, and every time you come close to the surface you’re just pushed deeper. And so you get up in the morning, you get dressed, and you do everything you can to make sure everyone thinks you’re okay. You make sure no one knows that you stayed up until 2 am last night, staring at the ceiling. You make sure no one knows that you constantly wonder how many of the sleeping pills in the drawer on your nightstand you’d have to take for you to black out. And you keep covering every ounce of pain, of numbness, of loneliness with a smile because you couldn’t stand to be a burden to the people around you. And then when it becomes too much you write some stupid fucking poem like this hoping someone will finally realize that you’re not okay, and you haven’t been for a while.
—  you don’t have to read in between the lines for this one.

anonymous asked:

If only momtaku's fans knew how awful she was for supporting this post and agreeing that Armin meta for him surviving is useless and obsolete: h t t p : / / lostcauses - noregrets. tumblr. com/post/157034914010/hey -ive-got-an- ideawhy -dont- we- all-just

I think the best thing to do is just constantly imagine yourself being 80, sitting in a rocking chair and looking back on your life. Think about all the opportunities you’re presented with every day and ask yourself ‘Would my 80 year old self be happy with this?’ Like, say your dad wakes you up at 8 in the morning and asks if you want to go out for breakfast. Right now, as a teenager, you’d probably just roll over in your bed and refuse, because you’re ‘too tired’ or ‘can’t be bothered.’ But as an 80 year old looking back, you would jump out of bed and go and have that breakfast without any second thought. It’s just the little things, you know.
—  80 year old answering the question ‘how to live life without regrets’ just days before she died. (via @wizdomly)

“Today i saw a post that only you and i would find funny, no one else gets my sense of humor like you do”

“Fuck i really miss you, i just needed you to know I’m always thinking about you”

“I went down to the park last night with my brother. The sky was so clear and i could see every star. It felt wrong to not be on the phone. I miss the sound of your voice”

“One of my friends is watching how I met your mother and she thinks Barney has a Capricorn rising. I’m fucking pissed”

“A boy just asked me on a date, I don’t think I’m ready for this”

“I’m starting to forget what we used to talk about all day. I’m so scared of forgetting the way your laugh sounds.”

“I heard you have a girlfriend now, I hope she makes you happy and I hope she heals the parts of you I left exposed”

“I once heard when you have trouble sleeping its because your soulmate is thinking of you… are you laying awake tonight too?”

—  Messages I never sent//kayla
You’re scared. You’re scared that if you let someone in they’ll break you. You’re scared to love and be loved because you’ve never had anyone care about you. You’re scared because loving means caring and caring means vulnerability and vulnerability means heartbreak. You’re scared because everyone you’ve ever cared for walked away without looking back. I’m sorry that you’re afraid, and the only way I know how to ease your fear is to show you what love looks like but that will scare you even more.
—  Love and other sources of fear