February 2012
“But don’t forget who you really are. And I’m not talking about your so-called real name. All names are made up by someone else, even the one your parents gave you. You know who you really are. When you’re alone at night, looking up at the stars, or maybe lying in your bed in total darkness, you know that nameless person inside you…Your muscles will toughen. So will your heart and soul. That’s necessary for survival. But don’t lose touch with that person deep inside you, or else you won’t really have survived at all.”
—Louis Sachar via inspiredbythisfeeling (via thatsmilinglaura)
Guys can you imagine next year at the Oscars, when the Hobbit just fucking destroys everything in its path and wins everything, there will be Martin Freeman standing in the wreckage.
And with eyes aflame he will look into the camera, raise the statue triumphantly and scream
‘FUCK YOU I WON AN OSCAR’
And in the corner Leonardo DiCaprio will weep bitter tears and rock back and forth.
I feel defective. I don’t think I actually know how to trust another human being and I don’t even think that’s something you can learn.
The captains got his boots on and he’s heading out the door, leaving his lady alone thinkin’, “He don’t love me no more.” He’s done with all this bullshit, he’s going back to war. If heaven is as heaven does then this is hell for sure.
“I hate this feeling. Like I’m here, but I’m not. Like someone cares. But they don’t. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.”
—Ellen Hopkins, Crank (via tesalecta)
“She loved mysteries so much that she became one.”
—John Green, Paper Towns (via skeletonized)
And on the worst days, when it feels like life weighs ten thousand tonnes. She’s got her cowboy boots and car keys on the bed stand so she can always run. She can get up, shower and in half an hour she’d be gone.
