sometimes i wonder what it would be like to live without sorrow and those feelings that you,s somehow, feel a thousand times more. But at the same time im wondering, who would i be without it ? who am i without my sadness.
I just finished reading -again- the perks of being a wallflower and the last pages really made me want to hear the stories of the people who made it. Just like Charlie
"how can ask anyone to love me when all i do is beg to be left alone"
- fiona apple
i don't know how to fill that hole inside of my chest.
I hate maths.
did you ever sat and wonder : what if i never did that, would everything be different today ?
tired of this shit, let me have my driver's license already
“Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.”
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath