lovealwayscharlie_

Status: The red washing down the bathtub can't change the color of the sea at all.
Joined: February 4, 2012
Last Seen: 8 years
user id: 270818








 Just call me Charlie.



If I were to reach inside myself and expose to you every last detail about me, it would take nearly a lifetime. And I'm sure you don't have a lifetime to spare. In my eyes, exposing myself to others creates a false reality for myself, sets my hopes far too high, and traps me in my strange, altered reality. So, I'd be honored to provide you with the basics.

On Witty Profiles, I care to go by Charlie. Just Charlie. My true identity doesn't matter much; you wouldn't be interested in the real me anyhow. But don't let me having an alias worry you, I mean no harm whatsoever, honestly. I'm just another teenage boy with unrealistic hopes for everything, immense amounts of apathy, introversy, and opinions that tend to get me in trouble, but a hidden sense of curiosity and sensitivity with an overactive imagination, asks far too many questions and think the world will end over the smallest things. I'm just Charlie. I'm nothing special.

What I'm trying to ease into: don't be afraid to talk to me. This is a place where you may feel free to roam freely without judgement. If you need anything, someone to come to, you can confide in me completely. If you feel you have nowhere else to go, think of me. I know how it feels to be left alone when you need someone, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Also, don't be surprised if I write on your profile a simple Goodmorning or Good night. Or simply ask how your day is going. I might do it once in a while, in hopes to brighten your day a little. Who knows, maybe we'll become the best of friends someday. Because god knows we all need those. Even me.

Please believe things are good with me, and even when they're not, they will be soon enough.
And I will believe the same about you.

Love Always,
Charlie.

 
 
 
 
 

Quotes by lovealwayscharlie_

I don't want you to cry anymore; not a single tear,
because your eyes are the prettiest I've seen.
and your lips are far too fragile to frame
pictures of frowns.
so please, just kiss me instead.
the next time you wake up in the morning
feeling anything less than beautiful;
know I find you to be prettier than
all the flowers in the hills,
and all the waves in the ocean,
know I love you
in every
single
way.


-not my format/quote-

 

 

Try to imagine life without timekeeping.

You probably can't. You know the month, the year, the day of the week. There is a clock on your wall or the dashboard or your car. You have a scheduale, a calendar, a time for dinner or a movie.
Yet all aroud you, timekeeping is ignored. Birds are not late. A dog does not check its watch. Deer do not fret over passing birthdays.
Man alone measures time.
Man alone chimes the hour.

And, because of this, man alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creature endures.
A fear of time running out.


― The Timekeeper, Mitch Albom






   sonder
     n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid
      and complex as your own - populated with their own ambitions,
      friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness - an epic story
      that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep
      underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other
      lives that you'll never know existed, in which you might appear
      only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur
      of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.




 

 

Sometimes we have thoughts that even we don’t understand. Thoughts that aren’t even true — that aren’t really how we feel — but they’re running through our heads anyway because they’re interesting to think about. If you could hear other people’s thoughts, you’d overhear things that are true as well as things that are completely random. And you wouldn’t know one from the other. It’d drive you insane. What’s true? What’s not? A million ideas, but what do they mean?
― Thirteen Reasons Why


 

What really counted was the possibility of escape, a leap of freedom, out of the implacable ritual, a wild run for it that would give whatever chance for hope there was. Of course, hope meant being cut down on some street corner, as you ran like mad, by a random bullet. But when I really thought it through, nothing was going to allow me such a luxury. Everything was against it; I would just be caught up in the machinery again.
― The Stranger 

 

Sleep would be so welcome. A warm blanket of black to erase everything else. Sleep without dreams. I've heard people talk about the sleep of the dead. Is that what death would feel like? The nicest, warmest, heaviest never-ending nap? If that's what it's like,  I wouldn't mind. If that's what dying is like, I wouldn't mind that at all. -If I Stay


Sing to me with unfinished stanzas,
I wont let my love for you run dry;
the rain softly treads on my heart,
cooling the passion rising like youth
rebelling for better days and brighter
sunshine
; your embracing kisses 
invisible to the naked eye count my
increased heartbeats and I want to
be there in your arms when I cry 
poetry and sleep between the lines
of your lopsided handwriting
.

-No credit to me whatsoever, found it on Tumblr.

 




you come home,
and everyone talks at once
and everyone asks questions,
but no one waits for the answers.
Instead they talk about themselves,
what they've been up to, what they're
going to do next,  as if you're a photo on
the wall. And then they talk to one another,
forgetting you've just flown in, forgetting you're
in the backseat, forgetting they've already said it all.

                                                          - Ellen Hopkins, Crank