EdwardScissorhands

I've reached the point where I really just don't care anymore.
I don't care about the way I look, or how I dress.
I don't care about grades, about college, about the future.
I've lost interest in art, music, photography, literature.
I've lost interest in people.
I don't care about friends. I don't care about making them or keeping them.
I've turned into a mess. I've stopped trying.
I am numb.
I don't care about the way people see me or what they think when they do.
I am numb.
I can't feel anything.
                                    I am numb.             
I've stopped crying and grieving and hurting.
Stopped trying. Stopped caring. Stopped hoping.
Stopped searching for something more.
    s t o p p e d. 
I am numb     Stopped caring about what I did or how I acted.
I am numb     Stopped caring about what I said or who I hurt.
    Stopped caring about others.
    Stopped caring about myself.
I am numb.
I am numb.
I am numb.



 

          The trouble is,

I want so much more from life than I'm likely to get. I want to explore and travel and go on the adventures people write novels about. I want that feeling of just speeding down an empty summer highway with classic rock music and aviator shades.  I want to grow old being proud of what I've done. I want to write a book and depict my adventures and just let my imagination loose. I also want to party and smoke and dance and go to concerts and drink one of those big shots you light on fire. And make music and write songs and paint on Sunday mornings. And I want to help people out. I want to be the one who finds the cure for cancer, or the one who finds an alternative for fuel, or the one who starts a great peace movement.


but let's face it, i'm just not it.




 

Because in the end,     when you lose somebody,
e  v  e  r  y     c  a  n  d  l  e,        every prayer
is  not  going  to make up for the fact
that the  only  thing  you  have  left  is a hole in
YOUR LIFE WHERE THAT SOMEBODY YOU CARED ABOUT
                                               used to be.

- D   a   m   o   n                          S   a   l   v   a   t   o   r   e                                     

“Tragedy, he perceived, belonged to an ancient time, to a time when there were still privacy, love and friendship, and when the members of a family stood by one another without needing to know the reason. His mother's memory tore at his heart, because she had died loving him, when he was too young and selfish to love her in return.”
- George Orwell, 1984

it took a moment for it to register in my mind. she had been crying. smuggled up beneath her white egyptian cotton sheets, straddling her pillow, there she lay. eyelids shut, lashes still wet with tears. 

and hansel said to gretal:
"let us drop these bread crumbs, so that together we find our way home,
because losing our way would be the most cruel of things"
THIS YEAR, I LOST MY WAY.
and losing your way on a journey is unfortunate.
but losing your reason for the journey
IS A FATE MORE CRUEL.
the journey lasted eight months.
sometimes i traveled alone, sometimes there were others who took the wheel,
and took my heart.
                                     but when the destination was reached,                                    
   it wasn't me who'd arrived,
IT WASN'T ME AT ALL. ))
And once you lose yourself, you have two choices.
    find the person you used to be, 
or lose that person completely.
because sometimes, you have to step outside the person you've been,
            AND REMEMBER THE PERSON YOU WERE MEANT TO BE.
    the person you wanted to be.
the person you are.



sorry for all these oth quotes guys but they express every single feeling inside me right now o kay