wearing a blanket around the house like
How nice —to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive
It amazes me that I can accurately type at top speed without looking at my keyboard but still pour water down my shirt ‘cause I missed my mouth in general.
It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.
The years between eighteen and twenty-eight are the hardest, psychologically. It’s then you realize this is make or break, you no longer have the excuse of youth, and it is time to become an adult – but you are not ready.
Eventually we’re just gonna have to accept “ducking” as a swear word