There she is, lying in front of me, smoking a cigarette, thinking of something or someone else. And that’s how she is stuck in my mind forever. We are two explorers in the dark. Mapless and hopeless. Alone together.

Here is The Boy with the Thorn in His Side, dying in your world. A man made monster with every human emotion, overdosed on worthlessness in a world that could never wrap it’s head around him (so don’t even try). When it’s all over just remember every single word you ever said was always just a bullet to his head. Bury him underground between friends and love - the only things that are gonna make it to the end with him. Look for his body buried beneath where the yellow weeds are growing and know he’s still living in his nightmares.

Just because today is a terrible day doesn't mean tomorrow might not be the best day of your entire life. You just have to wake up and get there

Freud suggests that in order to love someone else, one must love themselves; it's a classic "needs before other needs" argument. Unfortunately, no one really loves themselves . And, if they do, they need to get to know themselves better. Unfortunately, no one is really happy.

Underwear. It's like a god damned leash. It also constantly reminds me of how funny I look naked.

Emo is over, you can all go home now

I was a superlate bloomer, and I was kind of a prude. I always wanted to be able to keep the number of people I've had sex with very low, because I never wanted to have to tell my future wife, "Oh, yeah, I was with 30 people."