just when things are looking up
i start looking down.
i still feel lonely
in intimate settings
i feel better, alone
in crowds.
will you be there when the sun sets
when we have never seen the night?
what is fear, other than palpable?
an empty threat, or wise intuition
the last thought before death?
this is not a death sentence
this is the knowledge, that
what once would have stolen your last breath away
in fear and agony
have become glowing eyes in dark woods
watchful; wary, but with no effect.
"Your bad love of yourselves makes solitude a prison to you. But let this be your honor: always to love more than you are loved and never to be second in this."
— Friedrich Nietzsche, “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” (via violentwavesofemotion)
(via lifeinpoetry)
I miss live journal.
I miss reading long poorly written heartfelt things
And I miss writing for a guaranteed audience despite its bias and gossipy nature.
It was a magical, cruel and agonized, but beautiful puberty. I miss connecting to people like that.
Oh well then..
Tl;dr gimme your diaries.