I’ve been lonely for a long time now, hoping anyone who I perceive as better than me will scoop me up on a night kite rescue mission and love me so hard that I can finally forget about this feeling left over from all the years my blood was boiling. Dear Gravel, it doesn’t work like that. If anyone ever loves you that hard, hard as you’ve been dreaming, chances are you will not believe them
until you accept yourself.

Buddy Wakefield, Start (via andreagoldston)

To realize that all your life—you know, all your love, all your hate, all your memory, all your pain—it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream. A dream that you had inside a locked room. A dream about being a person…And like a lot of dreams, there’s a monster at the end of it.

True Detective  (via hibernas)

I’ve said it before but I’ll say it
again, for the sake of this poem.
I am not the kind of person that
things happen to.
I am not the kind of person that
things happen to, so I make it up.
I draw the dragon and then I
jump on its back.

I take a feeling and I say
‘Do something! Become something!
Help me or go away!’

There’s usually a boy. Sometimes
not. Either way, there’s someone
and they’ve hurt me.
There’s someone and they don’t
love me back,
because that’s what I want. That’s
my poetry.

I’m sorry, you know? I don’t know
what to do with the ones who have
already been here, so I pretend.
I play dolls. I change their names
and their clothes and their stories.

Call me what you want. I know
what the truth is. I know what to
put in between the lines to make it
sting like a real thing.
I know how to make myself better.

Still, I wish I could touch my
own heart instead of writing about
what it must feel like.
I wish I could do anything without
faking it.
What’s left to be honest about,
if not this? What’s left?

When things don’t happen,
I kick up the dirt, I blow on the
dust, I shake the snow globe.
So what if dragons aren’t real?
I bet you wish they were.

Caitlyn Siehl, Drawing the Dragon (via alonesomes)

sachimo:

i hate when i’m too comfortable around someone because then my brain thinks its ok to act weird but even then i end up being too weird

humans-of-pdx:

He stepped off the curb to cross the street and toppled over backward. She used all her strength to help him back up. This is what sixty years of marriage looks like.

humans-of-pdx:

He stepped off the curb to cross the street and toppled over backward. She used all her strength to help him back up. 

This is what sixty years of marriage looks like.