"Don't feathers grow more vivid in the Spring? Doesn't the leaves become red in the fall?
It might be that you've unknowingly changed to a different color along with the surrounding scenery."
Captain Rebecca from MINDHACK the Video Game
And don't try mumbling, it does not work...
Sometimes you just have to stay silent because no words can explain what’s going on in your heart and mind.
Unknown
I feel this more than I should....
http://iglovequotes.net/
I want to draw. I want to paint. I want to sew. I want to quilt. I want to program. I want write. I want to decorate. I want to converse. I want to love. I want to make art. I want everything that humanity can give me. I want to swallow the world whole. I want to love.
I buried the hatchet, but still find myself occasionally running my fingers over the edge as a reminder not to get close to you anymore...
I wanna be soft with someone and not regret it after
Goals of 2017: Make a good new normal.
Create a new, everyday normal that is filled both people and things that you enjoy. Get people you like being around, start doing things that you enjoy doing! And make THAT a part of your everyday life!
But you need to remove negative influences from your life and remove things that upset you. (PLEASE NOTE: This one needs to be taken with a grain of salt though.) Because obviously there are going to be plenty of things that will upset you but not all of them can be removed from your life. Maybe in some cases, the things that upset you can actually help you grow.
I feel this everyday...
“There are some things about myself I can’t explain to anyone. There are some things I don’t understand at all. I can’t tell what I think about things or what I’m after. I don’t know what my strengths are or what I’m supposed to do about them. But if I start thinking about these things in too much detail the whole thing gets scary. And if I get scared I can only think about myself. I become really self- centered, and without meaning to, I hurt people. So I’m not such a wonderful human being.”
— Haruki Murakami, The Elephant Vanishes