I have the attention span of a toddler and a memory span of a 90 year-old all conveniently (dis)arranged in a 17-year-old wreck of a soul. I am not a noun. I seem to be a verb, an evolutionary process, an integral function of the universe. I’m simply a human fill-in-the-blank.
This will serve as my outlet and where I shall vent. This is also a place for my ramblings and my interests. I will post whatever tickles my fancy, catches my eye and flips my ship. My blog is never consistent; but expect rants, thoughts and pictures. Pictures aren't mine unless stated.
About Me x #cheeseberber
Facebook | Formspring
ask
9 / 12 / 2011
When they cry,
All their feelings inside of them are pouring out. Everything they’ve built up comes crashing down. The words they wish they had said start to rush out in sobs and the emotional pain they feel becomes something stronger.
When they’re hurt, they start to convince themselves that feeling that way is essential when it’s not. Although all wounds leave scars, they serve as reminders to not let yourself hurt like that again.
If someone cries to you, just please understand that you’re their last escape from confinement.