“When you’ve seen beyond yourself then you may find peace of mind is waiting there and the time will come when you see we’re all one and life flows on within you and without you.”
I was nineteen. Call me.
Rough 24 hours. I had the longest panic attack last night and then it was decided I have to be medicated again. My art will suck, I won’t read, but hey, at least I will be mild.
I will never stop feeling like a burden.
I remember slow dancing to Radiohead and Death Cab. I remember laying in the snow, looking at the stars, and you asked me to sing those same songs to you. Isn’t it fucked up I still care? I care so fucking deeply about others because I want to feel that again and I will get burned 1000 times more before I stop fucking caring.