20 / Montreal / 🌙
/ À quoi ça sert d'exister? /
I think about dying but I don't want to die. Not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic. There's so much to see and so much to do but I still somehow find myself doing nothing at all. I'm still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can't quite figure out what the hell I'm doing or how to get out of it.*
10 Advices for myself :
1. Be kind. But not too kind.
2. If you feel you’ve been hurt, you’re hurt. Period. No one else is allowed to tell you how much you’re allowed to hurt.
3. Make the blame. But also take the blame.
4. People are gonna call you, “Crazy” and “Weird” and “Mad” for doing your own thing. Take the compliment.
5. Everyone’s first priority is their own selves. So put yourself first no matter what.
6. If you like that notebook, buy it. So what if you have more than enough empty pages back home? More the merrier.
7. Write. Draw. Sing. Dance. Act. Cry. Laugh. Curse. Do whatever the fuck you want. So long as it doesn’t affect them, no one has the right to complain against it.
8. The world is full of hypocrites. You may even find one in the mirror at times. But it’s alright.
9. Whatever you do, don’t put reins on your dreams. Dreams are the only highways with an infinite horizon that holds the impossible.
10. Laugh. Keep laughing. Happy is your best look.
-beingjustlittlered, writing prompt #62: list 10 pieces of advice you’d give yourself (via wnq-writers)
One.
You see her for the first time and she’ll walk right past you like you are a crack in the wall and she is a skyscraper with her head so high in the air and when you can’t sleep you’ll think about the way her eyes strayed into yours for a moment too long before breaking away and disappearing into the crowd of people.
Two.
She’ll look both ways before telling you she loves you under her breath and when she hugs you her eyes scan the empty room as if the walls had eyes and ears and mouths that could give you away.
Three.
When she’s curled up on your lap shaking with mismatched breaths you’ll wonder how someone who looked like she carried mountains on her shoulders could crumble so easily in your arms like the tornado in her mind finally hit her and knocked her off her feet.
Four.
In half-light she’ll run her fingers over your arms like she is reading words carved into your skin, binding them together into the perfect metaphor and you’ll hear it playback in your head at 4am when your head runs wild with thoughts of her.
Five.
You’ll find a safe haven on rooftops and abandoned rooms where she’ll set fire to your insides with hushed breaths between kisses planted perfectly on your lips and make you wonder how dangerous it is to play with wild flames while your body is made of paper.
Six.
You’ll stare God right in the eye and tell him that if loving her was a sin then you want no place in heaven with him because the way her lips fit perfectly on your neck is a type of paradise you’ll never forget.
-The six stages of falling in love with her. // by rb (via rbcages)
-jaedynrenai98
(via wnq-writers)
-jaedynrenai98
(via wnq-writers)
