so freaking over the sound of my own voice
or the sound of my own thoughts.
tomorrow, i´m changing for the worse.
some people need to stop complaining about how bad their lives are because it makes them look pathetic and that is the honest to god truth. you do things so people will pity you and it works... but perhaps not in the way you had planned.
grow a pair.
grow a pair.
i was wondering about questions and i thought that maybe as you grew older your head becomes less full of questions, and more full of answers. i then came to the conclusion that the day i run out of questions is the day i die.
you know that feeling that when you´re scared or alone and what helps you and cheers you up is the thought of one certain person? well this feeling identifies exactly how much that certain person means to me. which is a hell of a lot.
holidays are what life are supposed to be like all the time.
waste of paint - bright eyes
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