hey buddy did u know that under a powerful microscope a wood chip resembles our universe just let that sink in

we are so small we are so fricking small ok u hav to make yrself known or else u'll forever be nothing but a tiny floating speck

is that what u want to be for the rest of yr life??? a **** fricking speck no i dont think so

thats some horton hears a who type **** ok thats not ok

u know what else

no matter how known u make yrself u will always be just a tiny little speck but hey u know what

some specks can be bigger than other specks and this is not always physical

sometimes the traces u leave behind are bigger than u will ever be

so make a **** impact

voice yr stupid dumb beautiful opinions and voice them loud

be the tiniest speck and climb up as high as u can get and fricking shout at the top of ur little speck lungs

we are here were r here we r here and all that good jazz u kno

did i just write a poem about horton hears a who *******

shoutout to dr. suess for being a radass motherhecker thats some deep crap right there ****

hey you are the ******* sun and whoever is making you sad is nothing but a stupid ******* lamp

driving back home from being in the city, one hand on the wheel, yours in the other, the explosions in the sky song with the title to match the exact moment floating from my speakers, your head resting on my arm, and a sleepy look on your face. 

and *******, i have never felt so at home. i have never felt such solace in watching the dark highway lines. as long as you're by my side and your hand is in mine, i could drive forever, i could do anything, i am unabridged. i have never understood a wordless song so completely. every breath you take is a melody in and of itself. we are a symphony.

i’m afraid. i’m absolutely terrified of losing you. i assume things. these ******* scenarios replay in my head like a broken record every second of every ******* day and sometimes i convince myself that they’re real. they broke me, everyone in my past. they completely shattered me. i try so hard to find the courage to trust people but every time i have it just gets torn down again. why am i so stuck in the past? i visit the past so frequently that sometimes days, even weeks will pass and i won’t realize it because i’m trapped in this nightmare of a mind. this is a new form of self-mutilation, and it’s killing me quicker than when my skin was opened, quicker than when my wrists were slammed against the table corner, and hell, even quicker than when i swallowed a fist full of pills every day to give me the numbing high so i could bear the real world. i am weak. i may have “recovered” from physically injuring myself but i’ve got this new method and it seems to be staying for good. you know, the sick part is, that somewhere deep inside of me, i must like it. it acts as a shield. constantly having your guard up is a lovely way to live until you take a peek into reality and see that you’re slowly killing off the people who truly care about you. i am selfish. i am weak. and i am so, so sorry.