Leaving feels too good, once you leave.

I wish I knew how to quit you, Tumblr.

Like, in general I think people have very complicated reasons for wanting things, and we often have no idea whether we’re actually motivated by altruism or a desire to hook up or a search for answers or what. I always get annoyed when in books or movies characters want clear things for clear reasons, because my experience of humanness is that I always want messy things for messy reasons.

You die in the middle of your life.

We were very different, and we disagreed about a lot of things, but he was always so interesting, you know?

If people could see me the way I see myself - if they could live in my memories - would anyone love me?

I was struck by an awful thought, the kind that cannot be taken back once it escapes into the open air of consciousness; it seemed to me that this was not a place you go to live. It was a place you go to die.