“This is for all the people I’ll never meet. This is for the person I might have kissed had I taken a different subway line on Saturday and the person I might have been if that boy hadn’t broken my mother’s teenage heart. This is for the people I would have loved if last winter hasn’t been so cold and for the city I would have called home if I had written haikus on napkins and carried pens in dress pockets and in the knots of my hair. This is for who I was, who I am, who I might be. This is for you.”—Camryn Pulaski (via aspirethesenses)
She looked up to the sky and the dark smears of cloud passing by as the stars faintly speckled in the dying light.
"Maybe this wasn’t meant to be a growing experience for you. I mean, that accident has left way more scars than any other normal life-changing event."
The grass was damp, and the moisture had long since seeped up through his jeans, causing him an unsettling feeling of cold vulnerability. He couldn’t manage to lift his head up but instead allowed his vision to fixate on the track below the hill. A single jogger remained, trudging along the path, quietly panting but never faltering in her gait.
"I guess," he finally responded. "I haven’t given it much thought to be honest… I don’t like focusing on things like that."
The sun’s final moments passed as a brilliant orange hue bathed the mountains in the distance. The jagged outline only provided a cruel image of shattered glass and fire seeping over the once protective shield.
"I wish I could help you get through this, somehow… I just don’t have a clue of what’s even on your mind."
He turned to her, she was still gazing up at the dimming sky. ”You’re helping me right now, whether you realize it or not. Just forgive me if I’m not as open about everything as you’d like.”
She looked over to him and smiled warmly. ”You’re forgiven.”
Somewhere along all my struggling and mini-triumphs, I literally forgot who I was. I developed identities to help me conform to the situations I was being presented to. I no longer did the things I found joy in, purely for my own sake. I no longer pursued things that interested me purely for the sake of my own interest in them.
My environment changed me so much, and I hate that. I’m a painfully forgiving person, and I don’t tend to hate anyone or anything truly(though to be honest a few do come to mind, I’m not without fault here) but this is just one of those things I can’t stand.
I used to yoyo, everyday. It was at the point where I’d break so many strings from play that I had to stop for a few days just so I could get to a store that sold strings so I could replace my stock. I used to draw, a lot, with pencil, whatever came to mind. I had lots of ideas and spent hours trying to make them come to life on paper. I used to read, sci-fi and fantasy books, at least one book a month. I’d have periods where I’d be in extremely high moods or low moods, depending on whether I just started a new book or finished a good book.
There are other things… just those come to mind now. I hate myself now, the myself I’ve become.
"Why am I afraid of the monster that I was? Look at the monster that I have become."
Ugh, there’s quite a few candidates I can think of for this… the first one that popped in my head though was just riding scooters around my neighborhood with my friend in elementary school. We rode all over the place, back and forth between our houses and the school playground and we’d even go to walmart and spend our meager savings on candy and trading cards. Was just a glorious fun time, always.