When the apocalypse comes

I should have a millions freckles and a million stories

A million dollar Bugatti 

I should have at 

Least

read every book I wanted

Learned to cook a little vegan

Worked on a farm, in the 

Land

Climbed a mountain

Loved as long as I could and

Lived as long as I could and 

Never gave up

When you smile at me @&!#%*!!!!!!

I have fallen in love with a boy. The other day he asked me what I thought love was. I got all choked up. Because up until a few days prior I did not have a clue. But I tried to say something like this: I have been the exact same person with every dude I have claimed to love. A mostly bitter, one foot out the door kind of chick. Always thinking about someplace else. Or someone else. I was always thinking WOW THERE MUST BE MORE THAN THIS....... I begged the sky to show me.... and things did not feel ok for a very long time. This time though, God fucking damn, it really hit me hard man. It knocked me on my ass. It knocks me on my ass every time I fucking look at him. I have crumbled to my very foundation! I can't speak and I can't think. I can't wake up without you dancing around my head. I want you so bad every damn second. I could puke..... I am sick with love and I do not know how it happened. It's deathly- but I do not feel bitter anymore. I feel here. I feel like a person. A human. Grounded. Happy. He loves the things that I hate about myself- with that I learn to love myself too, properly. And I will love you, sir, for as long as I can. Without fear.

Beware of pity. 

“It’s a strange thing, how you can love somebody, how you can be all eaten up inside with needing them – and they simply don’t need you. That’s all there is to it, and neither of you can do anything about it. And they’ll be the same way with someone else, and someone else will be the same way about you and it goes on and on – this desperate need – and only once in a rare million do the same two people need each other.”

Madeleine L’Engle 

Oh Christ, the exhaustion of not knowing anything. It's so tiring and hard on the nerves. It really takes it out of you, not knowing anything. You're given comedy and miss all the jokes. Every hour you get weaker. Sometimes, as I sit alone in my room and stare at the window, I think how dismal it is, how heavy, to watch the rain and not know why it falls.

“She waited for the train to pass. Then she said, “I sometimes think that people’s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what’s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while.”

 —  Haruki Murakami