I’m a paradox. I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad. I’m lazy, yet I’m ambitious. I don’t like myself, but I also love who I am. I say I don’t care, but I really do. I crave attention, but reject it when it comes my way. I’m a conflicted contradiction. If I can’t figure myself out, there’s no way anyone else has.
do you ever just have to close your eyes while reading a book and whisper “stupid. you’re so stupid.” because of something a character is doing
You should not
have to rip yourself
into pieces to keep
i am seeing less and less of you (via pukin)