February 2012
129 posts
“Hope is a horrible thing, you know. I don’t know who decided to package hope as...”
– Ann Patchett
And at once I knew I was not magnificent.
aurelle:
I wonder if anyone would notice if my heart ceased to beat, and my lungs stopped and never worked again, and my body became cold and stiff and all the life inside me left, and never came back.
5 tags
It’s ironic. I always miss the wrong people at the wrong times.
“Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You...”
– Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore (via arreter)
i wish i could put “good taste in music” on my resume
I’ll be fine. Wonderful, even. And then I start replaying the memories and the moments, I can’t seem to stop. Not long after that, the regrets begin pouring in. Then I’m hit with a feeling of being replaced. You know that one? The one where no matter what you would have done, you wouldn’t have been enough. Because good enough never is. That feeling never really leaves. So...
