ilycal
new fanfic up!!! pls read and review https://www.wattpad.com/story/48973432
ilycal
ilycal
Everything good about them starts to hurt,
doesn't it?
Once you begin to realize that
while you were
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
They were just biding time.
While you were running towards them,
they were searching for the exit.
When you were m_ ss _ng them,
they were looking for better people to see
better places to be.
When you were feeling C0nFus3d,
their friends were laughing with them - at your expen$e.
While you were falling a p a r t
high,
they were getting not feeling a thing.
While you were giving them the benefit of the doubt,
they were doubting you had any benefits.
While you were trying to
p
a t
c #
things up,
They were trying to let you d
o
w
n easy.
All of the good things become
rui
ne
d
How lovely they made you feel
Before doesn't matter.
You were d r a g g i n g out
what they wanted to come to an
end...
Now all that you have left are the memories
a-t-t-a-c-h-e-d to the
p \ in that comes
After.
-I'II thank you later.
©Kateland Dwyer
1/5/2017
chichachichachu
Follback anak jms
arxsyas
kak.. lanjut dong stockholm syndrome sama broken nyaaa... please..
ilycal
“i. When I am quiet, please do not take it the wrong way. It just means that I am lost inside my own mind, trying to find a way out.
ii. When I stop replying, please don’t think that I am ignoring you. I’m just too sad to interact with anyone, and I tend to forget that I have people there for me.
iii. If I’m yelling at you while crying, don’t walk away. Oh god please don’t. Just hold me until I forget about everything wrong in my life.
iv. I push away too much and if I do that then please don’t go. It’s just something I can’t stop doing, and I’m working on that. I really am.
v. Please be careful with me, I break easily and I sometimes don’t always know how to put myself back together.”
—A.M.// things I wrote down when i met you (via tullipsink)
ilycal
Whenever you read a cancer booklet
or website or whatever, they
always list depression among the
side effects of cancer. But, in fact,
depression is not a side effect of
cancer. Depression is a side effect
of dying.
- John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
horandouz
hello bae! mind to read and vomments in my story? thanks. :)))
ilycal
this message may be offensive
“I want to paint my life with mistakes and memories.
Bright and burning like the most exciting of books.
Every page a meaningful tale to tell.
Every page multicolored.
Every page worth remembering, for the sad or the happy for the bad and the worst.
I want to live not merely exist anymore.
And I’m tired of the misconception that people get from arguments like this.
I don’t mean drugs or sex or alcohol.
I mean road trips to unlikely places and campfires and jotting down constellations in the middle of nowhere were the loud city lights won’t dim the night sky.
I want to go to a concert and lose my voice with the vigor of the crowd.
I want to go on color runs and curse at myself when my hair looks a weird mix of green and pink for a week.
I want to stay up all night talking about the universe.
I want to ride a Farris wheel and not close my eyes when it hits it’s highest point.
I want to live life at its fullest without it being associated with alcohol or drugs or sex.
And I want to do it now with my parents trusting me.
Not at 18 when I’m bitter and angry and do most of it out of rebellious causes because fuck,
I spent all my life locked up in my room.”
—untitledadolescent
wavybutera
hi @ilycal mind to read my fanfic? its CRUSHED and here's the link http://w.tt/1ghkWiy
ilycal
"Because nobody tells you
that losing the person you love most in
the universe feels like dying.
They tell you it hurts
and they tell you it’s lonely
but they don’t tell you that it feels like something crawled
it’s way into your chest
and tore your heart out,
that inside your head you’re standing before a gaping blackness screaming
‘give her back to me’
until you choke
and beg every god in the sky to drown you in your own breath.
They don’t tell you that when you open your doors
and look up at the stars,
you can’t see them anymore,
that sometimes you’ll miss them until your body aches,
miss her until your heart breaks.
They don’t tell you that you’ll see her in everything,
everywhere,
and that her purple jacket on the chair will make you want to run
until your head spins
and your blood stops
because if you keep moving
then maybe God
maybe you won’t see her face as clearly as the day you first met her
because the image won’t have time to settle.
Because you can’t hide forever.
You cannot hide forever ….
They don’t tell you it makes you want to die.
Quietly.
Just …
Just quietly.
Slip into the night with no noise or audience.
They don’t tell you it kills you.
And they don’t tell you there will always be a wall,
an unbreachable,
unending wall,
that looms at the edge of all your horizons
and will wake you up in a cold sweat night after night after night.
They don’t tell you a lot of things,
really.
And you know,
I’m not sure they ought to.
(I still don’t think pain is the most terrible thing in this terrible world.)”