It’s the oldest story in the world. One day, you’re 17 and you’re planning for someday. And then quietly, without you ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life.
Nathan Scott (via magicmanula)
(via iwilldecidewhoiwanttobe)
I know that I will eventually have to leave Jersey. Not because I want to, but because you linger in every crevice of this state. Unless I go to like Paterson.. but I don’t think I would survive there. You’re in Hopatcong, In Boonton, in Wildwood, Seaside, on the highway sometimes I think of you. I don’t understand a lot of things but I do understand missing someone. And I miss our friendship. I miss the simplicity of having a friendship. Of being able to call someone to share the good news. and the bad. Someone who won’t judge or question. Someone to speak my deepest secrets too.
I moved to Andover because you have yet to imprint memories here. It’s a save haven. A place I can call my own. To live and create memories that are just mine, or are Me and Dans’.
One day I will wake up and for a week my mind will be blank of memories of you.
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(Source: rosesandtheirpetals, via iwilldecidewhoiwanttobe)
(Source: adamonroe, via jesseekkah)
My favorite deep thought is:
After you die, it is believed that you have 7 minutes of brain activity left inside you, and in the 7 minutes you experience your entire life over, in a kind of dream… Because in a dream time is stretched.
So if this is the case, what if right now you’re in that 7 minutes. How do you know if you’re alive or just reliving old memories.
I’ve thought of this before. MINDFUCK.
(Source: ellliot)
translating sentences to each other through tangled tongues and steady hands
so, naturally i went creeping thorough my old blogs and found some of my old poetry. who knew i could write like this?
can I have her please? :)
