talk to me. don’t talk about me.

i think it’s better to just SHUT UP and leave you to yourselves. i learned to stop explaining. it’s better to stop explaining. it’s best if i just stayed away, learning to love what i have on hand even if i hate it sometimes. there’s so much effort trying to explain things when you’ve already assumed what you would like to hear. it’s a complete waste of time.

if you’ll hide me in riddles. i will let you. if you’re quick enough to turn the other cheek and take my actions as something against you. i will let you. if you’re going to  there’s no point really to comfort something that has been thoughtfully concluded.

i will live in my silence. always from now on.

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do what you love.or.leave it.

There are 8765 hours in a year. Assuming you have a fulltime job, you will spend 1920 of these hours at work — at least. That means your job accounts for 20 per cent of your time – so from a strictly mathematical point of veiw, what you do for a living has a significant impact on how you spend your life. Do what you love, or leave it.

faith.

believes that when you treat people as they are, they will remain as they are, but when you treat them as they could be, they can become what they should be.

~ reposted from a friend’s facebook page Ü

guess.

if someone chooses to stay after you’ve laid out everything that happened with you on the times years and distance have separated the two of you, and still is willing to take you or even wait for you in spite of how damaged you’ve become.

it’s something. that counts for something.

two-faced

All I hear are noises
Babbling,
not really making any sense
being used to it
i’m used to it,
but never comfortable,
never really been at ease
there’s just waiting
– for something significant
for something outstanding
for something worth looking forward to
the hypocrisy is more defining
than the smiles they so pretentiously present
i could only speak in hallow volumes
on a damned congruence
to everything flattering
I’d rather take the isolated road
and linger whilst I’m there
taking refuge in the alone-ness,
caring less for what might be there,
of what might be there
of what might be waiting..

and it is

still

in progress…