You make my heart hurt.
“What if I fell and hurt myself? Would you know how to fix me?”
“What if I went and lost myself? Would you know where to find me?”
I gotta get out of my head.
Desire.
The desire to create always strikes me at the most inopportune moments. You’d think I could control that urge or save it for a rainy day, but no. If it’s gone, it’s gone. And if it’s there, it literally takes everything within me to not pick up a pen and do SOMETHING. It’s driving me crazy. See now I want to draw a car. or a crazy. wait. that’d be me. I hate self-portraits. oh goodness.
You see how my mind goes.
It’s unhealthy, really.
“And I wonder if Beethoven held his breath the first time his fingers touched the keys the same way a soldier holds his breath the first time his finger clicks the trigger. We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.”
— Andrea Gibson (via fabulousbitch69)
(via afwul)
I wage wars inside myself
like there’s no one else,
defenseless.
(via afwul)
“That’s how you know you love someone, I guess, when you can’t experience anything without wishing the other person were there to see it, too.”
— Kaui Hart Hemmings, The Descendants (via larmoyante)
(via afwul)
“You were almost like a haiku: said so little, but meant so much.”
— Abraham M. Alghanem, Carrefour (via larmoyante)
(via afwul)
(via tfiostars)
