.

About

Accounts

Newer posts are loading.

You are at the newest post.
Click here to check if anything new just came in.

February 14 2018

→ decoholic.org

Reposted from

bluuu via

scorpix

#
React

Reposted from

maryjanejanis via

Santhe

#
React

Reposted from

InsomniaNervosa via

scorpix

#
React

Reposted from

pesy via

scorpix

#
React

Reposted from

przegrany via

scorpix

#
React

“ Mężczyźni w znakomitej większości tłumią uczucia, a szkoda, bo są tacy fajni, gdy pokazują swoja wrażliwość. ”

Reposted from

myfuckingreality via

zlapmniezabiodra

#
React

January 28 2018

“
"The electricity wasn't
in her eyes, any more.
Her eyes were still reflecting what
was there, but now it was the sadness.
I started to
see it everywhere.
Every face was different,
but the same.
I saw in Ryan
worse than anybody.
All the words they were teaching him
were things to stay away from.
There weren't any words
like "strawberry, or "kiss".
You could tell he really liked
this girl who worked there,
but she just smiled at him.
I started to think that he knew.
He knew that nobody looked
at him like a normal kid.
People either laughed at him
or felt sorry for him.
He couldn't do
anything about it.
He was trapped.
I couldn't sleep.
I hadn't slept since New York.
I was lying there and I'd think about
Mrs Calderon and I'd think about Ryan
and I felt things
tight in my chest.
I felt like I was drowning.
There's all this sadness and
there's nothing you can do about it
and all I wanted
was for it to go away.
When I say, "I don't remember that day",
I'm not lying.
I wish I could remember,
but I don't.
At least, not the
stuff they want me to.
Maybe it makes sense now.
Maybe somewhere in all of this,
there is a reason.
Maybe somewhere in all of this,
there is a why.
Maybe somewhere
there's that thing
that lets you tie it all up with a neat
bow and bury it in the back yard.
But nothing.
Not getting angry,
not prayers and not tears.
Nothing can make something
that happened unhappen.
The worst part is knowing
that there is goodness in people.
Mostly, it stays deep
down and buried.
Maybe we don't have God because
we're scared of the bad stuff.
Maybe we're really
scared of the good stuff.
'Cos, if there's no God,
that means it's inside of us and we
could be good all the time, if we wanted.
So, when we do bad things,
it'd Be because we want to
or because we have to.
Or maybe we just need
the bad stuff to remind us
what the good stuff is
in the first place."
”