Call your girlfriend,
it’s time you had the talk.
Give your reasons
Say it’s not her fault.
But you just met somebody new.

Tell her not to get upset, second-guessing everything you said and done.
And then when she gets upset, tell her how you never meant to hurt no one.
You just tell her that the only way her heart will mend is when she learns to love again and it won’t make sense right now, but you’re still her friend.
And then you let her down easy. 

(x1) 

Don’t you tell her how I give you something that you never even knew you missed.
Don’t you even try to explain how it’s so different when we kiss.
You just tell her that the only way her heart will mend is when she learns to love again and it won’t make sense right now, but you’re still her friend.
and then you let her down easy. 

(x1)

And now it’s gonna be me and you.

…from stress, from life, from friends, from standards, from society, from mimicry, from the mob mentality, from deterioration of values, from trying, from that, from this.

I love complaining, in all honesty, I really do. I love complaining, I stress out easily, blah blah blah. My life. Whatever. But what I realized, finally (after encouraging others to do this), you just have to remember that everyday is a new day.

Granted, yeah, “same shit different day”, sometimes crap carries over for a few days, a few hours, a few months….maybe years, fuck it, who knows? Right? But that’s life and everyday you have the chance to try something new, whether it involves something new to try and alleviate the shit or another day to keep pummeling through. It’s normal and completely okay to take “give up days” or “weeks” where your middle finger just stays in the air…buuuut - to stay that way forever is playing the victim. And you know what?  Fuck that. Because I’m stronger than that.

So next time you complain, do it, get it over with, wallow in your misery, and shit. I do it all the damn time. But remember - don’t let it be another diem you forgot to carpe. Because shit. YOLO - and damn right it’s true. As cliche as it is, that tiny phrase that went out of style as soon as Drake declared it the motto, nigga, it’s true. You only live once. So don’t mess it up. 

I have yet to meet someone who refuels and instigates the thing in me that makes me and keeps me caring, wanting to talk, always feeling adventurous about life. But that feeling is worth waiting for it to come along.

“Every good lookin girl a normal dude is gone want to Fuck and if he don’t he gay”

Things Wrong With This Tweet:

1. The standard is simply “good looking”.
2. You’re classifying any dude who doesn’t want to have sex with every single good looking girl he sees as ‘gay’, which is a really unclassy, disgusting, manwh*re-ish statement on your behalf. You may not believe it, but some guys have morals and ethics and standards, and some girls actually look for that.
3. …stop letting your dick speak for you. 
4. ^^ This means you don’t have morals, a-typical douche of a guy.
5. Using ‘gay’ like that makes you look incredibly immature.
6. You also look incredibly ignorant.
7. I probably hate you now…let me think about that one…nope, definitely do. 

I often question why things happen when, why and mostly, how they do.

When you’re  caught up in the moment of a great joy or despair,
nothing makes sense. It just gets caught up. It gets lost in this tangible,
fragile conglomeration of feelings as we attempt to make out the bits and pieces and just soak in what they are.

But when you look back on things - they seem to make a little more sense.
Even if they didn’t turn out quite how you would have wanted, or exactly like you envisioned, you realize that things truly do occur just as they were supposed to.

And for that you should have no regrets, ever.

Every little piece of every little fragment of your reality was a moment of impact, a collision that, without it, you may have lost a little piece of memory or piece of you that is the piece someone loves, or the piece that molded you. 

For this I now understand, or better feel my way around, why I struggled so much this past year with school. I understand his loving Mackenzie so soon after; his complete disregard of our past. I accept that I don’t live with my biological family. I understand why you forgot about our escapades in Omaha. I accept that we are no longer the 3 Musketeers. 

There’s a lot of things that have become my moments of molding - things I now understand a few years or minutes or months or decades later - but that I will never, ever let slip me by.

I realize I can let go, but still learn.

A leaf in the breeze, smokey morning haze
The sun on her face and the touch of lover’s hands
The pain that comes today, is here, then goes away 

And we are homeward bound, and I want this more than life
I want this more than life (x2)

To touch something real will help your wounds heal
Like the sun on your face, the dreams of starry nights

And we are homeward bound, and I want this more than life