Shut up, wipe those tears from your brown eyes, print out a picture of him & throw darts at it until there's a hole in your fucking bedroom wall. Look in the mirror and scream until you cant breathe, blast your favourite song and laugh. I want you to find yourself again. Because the girl i knew so many months ago before she met that asshole who changed her temporarily used to not give a shit about what people say. He fucking destroyed you, and nobody messes with my friends, give me his number; his life is about to be hell.

In my heart there lies a Gypsy...dark and jagged she is a shard of the Dream...dreams of the dance the music the firelight...In my heart there lies a Gypsy..."

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..." Jack Kerouac

To the nice girls who are overlooked.

Who become friends and nothing more,

who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be that they're doing something wrong.

We are terrible for each other and yes,

we are a disaster.

But tell me your heart doesn't race

for a hurricane or a burning building.

I'm blasting my music so I won't hear my thoughts,

but it's stupid because the lyrics remind me of what I'm trying to forget.

Desidero essere il vostro tutto.

[I want to be your everything.]

You find a glimmer of happiness in this world,

and there's always someone who wants to destroy it.

--Finding Neverland

I saw a shadow and I knew that it wasn’t mine. You and her, I know that you were intertwined. Even though her clothes were on and everything, your eyes were somewhere else and you were both to blame. Don’t say a word, I’m sure that won’t be enough to erase what I know just happens, isn’t that what dreams are made of? This is my house and I won’t allow the disrespect. Now that you’re caught, what am I supposed to say? We went so wrong and what you did, but I still feel this way and I can’t believe it or forget what I saw today. I thought that I saw something I know did not belong to me but then I thought that there’s no way you would do that to me and then last week, when you went outside to use your phone, I felt a chill but told myself that it was from the cold.

if anything matters then everything matters. Because you are important, everything you do is important. Every time you forgive, the universe changes; every time you reach out and touch a heart or a life, the world changes; with every kindness and service, seen or unseen, my purposes are accomplished and nothing will be the same again.

And when a guy breaks up with a girl and she begins to cry, it's not because she's crying for the guy, not because she's upset. She's crying because she's wondering what she done wrong, as if she wasn't good enough, she's crying because she's going to miss the memories of being with him. She's crying with what's left of her heart.

He turned around, looked right at me and said nothing. Not even "hi." It was as if the months we had spent together, the times I'd helped him out, just weren't important. As if they never happened.

want to taste and glory in each day, and never be afraid to experience pain; and never shut myself up in a numb core of nonfeeling, or stop questioning and criticizing life and take the easy way out. To learn and think: to think and live; to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love.

I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us. If the book we are reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow on the head, what are we reading it for? We need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us.

our biggest challenge isn’t someone else. It’s the ache in your lungs and the burning in your legs, and the voice inside you that yells ‘can’t’. But you don’t listen, you just push harder. And then you hear the voice whisper ‘can’, and you discover that the person you thought you were is no match for the one you really are

nd I learned what is obvious to a child. That life is simply a collection of little lives, each lived one day at a time. That each day should be spent finding beauty in flowers and poetry and talking to animals. That a day spent with dreaming and sunsets and refreshing breezes cannot be bettered. But most of all, I learned that life is about sitting on benches next to ancient creeks with my hand on her knee and sometimes, on good days, for falling in love.

After all these months, all this time, so much has happened. The talks, the phone calls, the laughs, and the feelings. If I were to look back on them, I would never believe that, that person was once me. I wouldn't recognize that girl because she's so different from me. But I guess changing & moving on is part of growing up. I'm growing up and finding out what kind of person I want to be for the rest of my life. And maybe in the future, there are more changes to come, but as for right now, this is who I'm proud to be.

Suddenly, all I can think about are the things I don't know about him. All the things I never had time to learn. I don't know if his feet are ticklish, or what his favorite movie is. I don't know what nightmares he had as a child. I don't know which stars are his favorites or what shapes he sees in the clouds. I don't know what he is truly afraid of, or what memories he holds closest. I don't know.

I blur the lines that define who I am and where I’m going to be, i break down walls and build bridges that span the sea, these hands catch fire and ignite the things I hold dearest to me, so what is the consequence, when I’ve got the whole world at my finger tips?

I feel like I should be given a sheet of paper that explains to me why bad things happen to me. Why it seems I'm taking steps forward, but I'm really running backwards. I feel like someone should draw me a diagram explaining why things seem so perfect right before they suddenly fall apart in my hand like sand slipping through my fingers.

Have you ever wondered about the things we tell ourselves before we fall asleep? We whisper the words in the dark, telling ourselves that we're happy, or that he's happy, that people will change their minds. We persuade ourselves that we can live without the people who have left. Each night before we fall asleep we lie to ourselves in a desperate hope that come morning, it will all be true.

To all the secret writers, late-night painters, would-be singers, lapsed and scared artists of every stripe, dig out your paintbrush, or your flute, or your dancing shoes. Pull out your camera or your computer or your pottery wheel. Today, tonight, after the kids are in bed or when your homework is done, or instead of one more video game or magazine, create something, anything.

If you are going to fall in love with me, it’s only fair that you know what you are falling in love with. You are falling in love with my insecurities, and my obsession with trying to figure out what everyone thinks of me. You are falling in love with my immaturity, my constant need to feel loved and appreciated, my overactive tear ducts, my internet obsession, my tendency to be too clingy. You fall in love with my troubled past, and my hopes and dreams, and how I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. If you fall in love with me, you fall in love with my self-hate and all my imperfections and my perception that nobody could ever love me. But, you are also falling in love with the way my eyes will smile when I’m with you, the way I’ll text you in the mornings just telling you I hope you have a great day. You’re falling in love with the occasionally humorous and/or thought-provoking things I say, and the way I blush when people ask me about you. But to me, the most important thing will be that you are falling in love with me, despite my thinking that it is impossible.

People say that when we grow up, we kick at everything we’ve been told, we rebel against the world our parents worked so hard to bring us into, that part of growing up is kicking at the ties that bind. But I don’t think that’s why we kick at all. I think we kick when we find out that our parents don’t know much more about the world than we do. They don’t have all the answers. We rebel when we find out that they’ve been lying to us all along, that there isn’t any Santa Claus at all.

he tough thing about following your heart is what people forget to mention, that sometimes your heart takes you places you shouldn’t be, places that are as scary as they are exciting and as dangerous as they are alluring, and sometimes your heart takes you to places that can never lead to a happy ending. And that’s not even the difficult part. The difficult part is when you follow your heart, you leave normal, and you go into the unknown. And once you do, you can never go back

I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't real as the here and now?

we live in this culture where everything is supposed to be so hip and so cool.. and it's not cool to love, and it's not cool to take care of each other, and it's not cool to stand up for ourselves. But you know what? Fuck all of that. I believe in love, and I believe that the only way that we are going to survive this fucking craziness that's going on in our world today is if we just learn to look at love, turn our heads the other way from all the bullshit, and fucking love.

All I’m going to have is all that you can give me and I’ll give right back everything I have in me because nothing ever felt as right as this does right now. I’ll go back to before we met, try and erase the past, try harder to forget because nothing will ever be as good as here and now because when I looked into your eyes and you dared to stare right back, you should’ve said, “Nice to meet you, I’m your other half.”

[2] You ask me about regret? Let me tell you a few things about regret, my darling. There is no end to it. You cannot find the beginning of the chain that brought us from here to there. Should you regret the whole chain, and the air in between, or each link separately, as if you could uncouple them? Do you regret the beginning which ended so badly, or just the ending itself?" -White Oleander.

[3] For once, I wish something between us would just happen, good or bad. I wish you had something to tell me; if I should keep holding on or just let go.

[4] I just think that like, one day we should all just either shut the hell up or say everything that crosses our mind. So the world can either be a silent one or a chaotic one. Because I’m sick of the in-between one.

[5] Never fear shadows. They simply mean there’s a light shining somewhere nearby.

[6] Mad Hatter: "Have I gone mad?"

Alice: "I'm afraid so. Completely and utterly bonkers. But I'll let you in on a little secret: all the best people are."

[7] I know that after tonight you don’t have to look up at the stars and I know that if the love is alright then you don’t have to look up at the stars. So come away with me just for one night, no one will ever know. I will leave you satisfied, forever past time. You don’t have to hide, you’re free to fly.

[8] Maybe the truth was, it shouldn't be easy to be amazing. Then everything would be. It's the things you fight for and struggle with before earning that have the greatest worth. When something's difficult to come by, you'll do that much more to make sure it's even harder- if not impossible- to lose

[9] If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character.. Would you slow down? Or speed up?

[10] At some point in life the world's beauty becomes enough. You don't need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough.

I’m dreaming of some place other than here. I’m dreaming of someone other than the guy every girl i could ever know is hoping to get a short chance with. I’m fantasizing of a better life than the one I lead. I’m thinking of a paradise where there is peace, where there is love. and where diversity is tolerated. I’m in need of the place where being me would be enough. and a place when everyone needs no one else but themselves, but someone; if not everyone, is always there. I’m dreaming of my heaven on planet earth. where music always plays. the grass is always greener than the day before. the place where even the poorest are the most wealthy. I’m fantasizing over the place that will one day be. No matter how long the wait.

I used to be afraid of so many things...that I'd never grow up, that I'd be trapped in the same place for all eternity, that my dreams would forever be shy of my reach. It's true what they say, time plays tricks on you. One day you're dreaming, the next your dream has become your reality. And now that the scared little girl no longer follows me wherever I go, I miss her. I do. Because there are things that I want to tell her...to relax, to lighten up, that it is all going to be okay. I want her to know that meeting people who like you, who understand you, who actually accept you for who you are will become an increasingly rare occurrence. And as history gets rewritten in small ways with each passing day, my love for them only grows, because the truth is--it was the best of times. Mistakes were made, hearts were broken, harsh lessons learned, but all that has receded into fond memory now. How does it happen? Why are we so quick to forget the bad and romanticize the good? Maybe it's because we need to believe that the time we spent together actually meant something. That we were there for each other in a time in our lives that defined us all. That time of our lives that we will never forget. I can't swear that's exactly how it happened, but this is how it felt.

You start out life with a clean slate. Then you begin to make your mark. You face decisions, make choices. You keep moving forward. But sooner or later there comes a time where you look back over where you have been... and wonder who you really are.