Wanna know the fucking truth? Nobody is fucking happy. Nobody has skin made from oil paint and sunlight. Nobody fucking understands this world. Fuck, nobody probably understands math as much as they claim. You’re here one day and the next you’re not. God? Religion? I’ve learned a lot more about the world by eating acid and swallowing pills. Tell me what your church has done for you? Tell me if you have holes in your mouth from speaking lies? Wanna know the fucking truth? Pity is just another word for pathetic. Drink beer and watch the sunrise from every rooftop. Take photographs naked. Take photographs kissing. Take photographs having sex. Stop making everything about sexuality. Wanna know the fucking truth? Nobody really gives a damn if you lost your virginity at fourteen or if you were the president in high school. Wanna know the fucking truth? There is no such thing as the right person. People leave. They change like ocean currents, they leave you with bruises in your calves. And you wanna know the fucking truth? You get better. You learn to love. You find God in between the cracks of a wall when you’re puking your limbs out. You wanna know the fucking truth? Go find it.
something someone should have told me when i was eighteen (via irynka)
Learn to say ‘no’ without explaining yourself.
If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as a Michael Angelo painted, or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, ‘Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.’
It’s kinda sad isn’t it?
That someone could hurt you so much that you have to write about it.
Don’t lose pieces of yourself inside his mosaic.
If there is shattering, then there will always be a rebuild.
Worship the moon instead of his favorite song
and the next time you hear it, don’t sing along.
Never walk the three miles to his house
even after all the gin…
Get excited about the little things. About wearing a new outfit for the first time. About Sunday brunches with your best friends. About the new cute guy in your class. About finding an extra dollar in your pocket. About anything that even remotely makes you happy because as you grow up, passions fade and enthusiasm gets mistaken for foolishness. So don’t let the grey world stop you from shining.
What defines a best friend? What are the requirements to be a good best friend? How many hours a week does it entail? Stupid questions that have no answers. A best friend is not defined by how many times they talk on the phone, or how many hours they hang out together. It is not defined by how many sleepovers they gossip at, or how many inside jokes they have. There are no requirements or laws that state a good best friend must hang out with them every weekend, or tell each other every little detail. A best friend is a matter of opinion. It is the person who has been there for you through everything, not just through the fun things, or the little things. It is the person that you call when you are at your absolute worst, it is the person who saves you when you didn’t even notice that you needed saving, mostly it is the person who accepts you for who you are, and the person that you are becoming.