I want to scoff when people tell me I am apathetic. Maybe I just choose what to actually care about. Maybe I care too much about the wrong things.Sometimes caring is worse than not caring at all.
i love staying up til 3am so i can think about every horrible thing that has ever happened to me
|—||a part of yesterday’s dream on my dream diary (that freaked me out)|
and think of the galaxies inside my
heart, and truly wonder if anyone will
ever be able to make sense of all that
Being loved is not the same thing as loving.
When you fall in love, it is discovering the ocean after years of puddle-jumping.
It is realizing you have hands.
It is reaching for the tightrope when the crowds have all gone home.
Do not spend time wondering if you are the type of woman men will hurt.
If he leaves you with a car alarm heart, you learn to sing along.
It is hard to stop loving the ocean, even after it has left you gasping, salty.
So forgive yourself for the decisions you’ve made, the ones you still call mistakes when you tuck them in at night,
And know this: know you are the type of woman who is searching for a place to call yours.
Let the statues crumble. You have always been the place.
You are a woman who can build it herself.
You were born to build.
|—||Sarah Kay, “The Type” (via larmoyante)|
i wrote a poem
I almost scrolled past this but it’s actually really fucking deep…
that last fucking picture
i’m like 76% coffee 24% sad