“The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.”—Stephen King (via disease)
I’m in my second year of university and for the past while I’ve been feeling drained. I’m doing well in school and I make time to go out for drinks once in a while — I should be having a better time than I am now, shouldn’t I? What’s wrong with me? Nothing.
I’m 25. I have a full-time job with health insurance, a secretary, an office and a paid-for parking spot in the city. Why am I unhappy? Why do I want to give it up and go back to school? I’m trying to be happy with what everyone wants but I can’t. What’s wrong with me? Nothing.
I just worked my ass off on a project at work. Lots of people are congratulating me … but when I hear it, it just falls dead. What’s wrong with me? Nothing.
I don’t know what to do with my life, and I have absolutely no motivation to find out. What’s wrong with me? Nothing.
Sex is just so complicated and I always get so nervous and psych myself out that I let it ruin the experience. What’s wrong with me? Nothing.
I can only come in one position. One position. It’s universal — every man I’ve been with, I can only have orgasms in one damn position! What’s wrong with me? Nothing.
I’m 21 years old and I’ve never been out on a date. I’ve got plenty of friends and I don’t think I’m boring, so what’s wrong with me? Nothing.
When boys like me, I get weird. I will like them and flirt with them, but as soon as they want to hang out, I freak out and try to come up with excuses not to. What’s wrong with me? Nothing.
I really really like this guy. But sometimes when we’re together I get really worried. I worry about when we’ll stop liking each other. Why can’t I just be happy? What’s wrong with me? Nothing.
I’ve never been in love although I’ve dated plenty of guys. What’s wrong with me? Nothing.
I always think I’ll be happier someplace else. What’s wrong with me? Nothing.
And then the magical travelling romani circus of scholastic would randomly show up and you’d never care to buy any books but they had AWESOME gadgets and toys for sale
at the motherfucking BOOK FAIR
I’m sure it was at least a little different at the time, but when my mum was in elementary school she asked her parents if she could get a book from the catalogue. They said she could have new books if she read all the books they already had. So she did. She read every fucking book. I don’t know exactly how many there were, but when I was a kid it sounded like a lot. She was graduating high school by the time she finished the task, and never ended up getting one of the catalogue books. When my grandmother sold the farm she gave my mother a large share of their library, and it was on the shelves of our home as I grew up. I’m sure my siblings and I have a few of them on our own shelves now.
This has been a story about what kind of woman my mother is.
He said his mother, Doreen, died in a car accident when he was 12 and after that he and his father, Ryan, took to the forest. He said they wandered using maps and a compass, staying in tents or caves overnight.
He told authorities that after his father died in August, 2011, he buried him in the forest and then walked five days north before ending up in Berlin, and showed up at city hall.
ashley ashley ashley ashley r u there ashleyyyyyyyy (im DRUNK (from brandy)) remember that time we made out in the barn Scarlett, it’s four in the morning and I have to get up in two hours to run your mill Please don’t text me this late oh i sold the mill haha did i not tell you that Oh my God. did you know that pantalets are out this year that’s why im not wearing any ;) OH MY GOD