You see, the problem is that everyone in this world is trying to teach some kind of lesson; how to survive, or how to get a successful job or how to look desirable. Good people who care about you spend valuable time trying to better every aspect of you, to fill every crack in your character and stitch every dangling end. What they don’t do is sit down and put their hand on your back and tell you how pain doesn’t tingle up your sides or numb your bones, rather it hits you hard like an unexpected car accident. They don’t explain how hearing someones name can feel like a dagger in your stomach, dragging and ripping every seam you scrambled to tie together. They don’t tell you that pain exists everywhere else just as much as it exists in the mind, and rather than feeling comforted, you just want them to remove their hand and retreat their words because the pain only gets louder when you give it a voice.
He who knows, does not speak. He who speaks, does not know.
People do not seem to realise that their opinion of the world is also a confession of their character.
But I believe good things happen everyday. I believe good things happen even when bad things happen. And I believe on a happy day like today, we can still feel a little sad. And that’s life, isn’t it?
Write beautifully what people don’t want to hear.
And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.
There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.