I think the reason why the phrase “I’m not like most girls” annoys me so much is because women have been conditioned to feel like they have to disassociate themselves from the female gender to be recognised as an interesting human being and if that isn’t fucked up then I don’t know what is
“I think about dying but I dont want to die. Not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic. There’s so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. I’m still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can’t quite figure out what the hell I’m doing or how to get out of it.”—Matty Healy (via tiffanyluucifer)
It’s nice to see that I’m not the only one that feels this way, because this is exactly how I feel.
Instead of Mom, she’s going to call me Point B.
Because that way she knows that no matter what happens,
at least she can always find her way to me.
And I’m going to paint the solar systems on the backs of her hands,
so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say,
Oh, I know that like the back of my hand.
And she’s going to learn that this life will hit you hard, in the face,
wait for you to get back up, just so it can kick you in the stomach,
but getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way
to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.
There is hurt here that cannot be fixed by Band-Aids or poetry.
So the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn’t coming,
I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the cape
all by herself. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small
to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I’ve tried.
And Baby, I’ll tell her, don’t keep your nose up in the air like that.
I know that trick; I’ve done it a million times.
You’re just smelling for smoke
so you can follow the trail back to a burning house,
so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire
to see if you can save him. Or else-
find the boy who lit the fire in the first place,
to see if you can change him.
But I know she will anyways.
So instead, I”ll always keep
an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby,
because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix.
Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks that chocolate can’t fix.
But that’s what the rain boots are for.
Because rain will wash away everything,
if you let it.
I want her to look at the world through the underside
of a glass-bottom boat, to look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind,
because that’s the way my mom taught me-
That there’ll be days like this.
There’ll be days like this, my mama said.
When you open your hands to catch,
and wind up with only blisters and bruises;
when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly, and
the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape; when your boots will fill with rain,
and you’ll be up to your knees in disappointment.
And those are the very days you have all the more reason
to say thank you. Because there’s nothing more beautiful
than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline,
no matter how many times it’s swept away.
You will put the wind in win(d)some, lose some.
You will put the star in starting over and over.
And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute,
be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.
And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, I am pretty darn
naive. But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar
it can crumble so easily, but don’t be afraid
to stick your tongue out and taste it.
Baby, I’ll tell her, remember your mama is a worrier,
and your papa is a warrior, and you are the girl
with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more.
Remember that good things come in three’s. And so do bad things.
And always apologize when you’ve done something wrong.
But don’t you ever apologize for the way
your eyes refuse to stop shining;
your voice is small but don’t ever stop singing.
And when they finally hand you heartbreak,
when they slip war and hatred under your door,
and offer you handouts on street corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.
“The way he said her name made my heart cramp. In all my years of word collecting, I’ve learned this to be a tried and true fact: I can very often tell how much a person loves another person by the way they say their name. I think that’s one of the best feelings in the world, when you know your name is safe in another person’s mouth. When you know they’ll never shout it out like a cuss word, but say it or whisper it like a once-upon-a-time.”—Natalie Lloyd, A Snicker of Magic (via quoted-books)
I want to pack my stuff and just go, idk where to exactly, but I wanna go everywhere. I think life is too short, and we are only on this magical, huge beautiful planet once, and I’d hate to not even be able to explore half of it while I’m here