— Charles Bukowski
— (from “House”)
(Source: sothenshe)
It was raining on my walk home, so my tears combined seamlessly with the raindrops.
I think, for once, he was entirely, painfully, brutally honest, but that’s what I needed. I’m not OK with being good enough to fuck and not good enough to love right now. I emotionally can’t handle that. It’s time to move on.
There’s a constant battle between my brain and my heart and my heart is being fucking stupid right now.
I have to stop doing this to myself. I am in control of my life. I control the things that happen to me and the things that I do.
Despite everything else, every time I attend, study for, or think about my Clinical Psychology class, I get excited about my future.
hmm that mating for life thing is only true for a handful of seahorse species and actually, when the mate dies, the remaining one almost always mates with its nearest single neighbor during the subsequent mating season.
(via cicconeyouthh)
fuck you, 2010.
I had a conversation tonight with a complete stranger that changed my perspective completely.
The Quiet World
In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
the government has decided to allot
each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.
When the phone rings, I put it
to my ear without saying hello.
In the restaurant I point
at chicken noodle soup. I am
adjusting well to the new way.
Late at night, I call my long
distance lover and proudly say
I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.
When she doesn’t respond, I know
she’s used up all her words
so I slowly whisper I love you,
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.
— Jeffrey McDaniel
