(Source: crymeafuckingyolo, via cazzzzo)
"I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you exist. Or something like that."
- Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
(Source: killlers, via dulcetdecember)
Something is wrong.
With me, with my brain, with the way I let myself receive information just to forget it again completely. If I keep failing in my classes, if I keep pushing people away, if I keep wanting more from him than I know I should be taking, if I keep if I keep if I keep. I am overweight, hormonal, full of athlete’s foot and weird itches and sometimes yeast and I can’t keep the bags from creeping back under my eyes. I don’t know why he likes me anymore and that’s dangerous. Giving myself secret bruises on the way back from class I recognize the dangers of letting myself hide in dark closets and cry alone. I recognize the feeling of nausea and the way my brain slips back into hell so easily. But I can’t stop. I don’t want to crawl out of the dark so fast sometimes, and I know that this is the opposite of healthy. I know that I look so normal and straddle the line so quietly and secretly, and so well. I know that if I were in the right state of mind, a push is all that it would take.
