Quotes added on Tuesday, July 30 2013









 

A broken heart should be visible. Something that hurts that much should not be hidden. The pain, much worse than broken bones, knife wounds, gunshots, chemotherapy, tumors or boils, should be swathed in long, white bandages. The wounded should appear on crutches or in a wheelchair for their heart. Then people would know. They would recognize the injured, they would see the damage and understand, care offer, a kind word. Love is so much like war and a relationship only one long seige, the defenses going up and down as the fortune changes the allies transfer. Couples should wear combat uniforms. The would be bright and freshly ironed in the first days of romance. Then the material would become stained, begin to fray. We would lose a button or two. Anyone looking at us would know where we were, how far we had come. Only the shiny epaulet still attatched, but somehow a symbol of hope. We would emerge victorious.

 

 
formatcredit- rajsonkar
Me: *Sings a duet with my bird*
Me: This is the closest I've come to summer love.
Me: *Gets hit in the head with a kick ball during gym*
People: *Laughing*
Friends: Are you okay?
Me: Yeah, I didn't even feel it.

Me: *Walks into a table while home alone*
Me: MOTHER-
And we danced all night, 
To the Best Song Ever.
This quote does not exist.

last night, i was having a really weird, freaky dream that large cartons of orange juice were trying to convince me to take acid and have a rave with them.

at some point, i realised it was too weird to be real, so i pinched myself to see if i was dreaming. it did hurt, but i didn't wake up.

so i thought, right, that didn't work, i'll slap myself and see if that wakes me up. (my dream self is apparently an idiot but in my defense those cartons were psychotic)

and with that, i woke up with a stinging fist and one hell of a black eye.

i got a black eye because i punched myself in the face while i was sleeping.

that is the story i have to tell people when they ask.


i punched myself in the face while i was sleeping
 




You are my Happiness. 
i need to check into Elvis' HeartBreak Hotel...
into room: just got dumped by txt
ASK ME QUESTIONS! lol 
ask.fm/fabifigueroa423
ask.fm/fabifigueroa423
ask.fm/fabifigueroa423
 
You gradually get over the pain. It doesn't go away, not for a long time, but it becomes easier to live with. One morning you wake up and he's not the first thing on your mind. And then a few months down the line you realize you've made it through half the day without thinking of him. Sometimes it takes months, sometimes, years, but eventually you reach a point when you only think about them occassionally. You manage to do this because you don't see them, you don't hear about them, you try not to think about them. And then you bump into them walking down the street, or someone unexpected mentions their name . . . and the memories come flooding back. But memories also become less painful in time, and I can talk about Simon now without really feeling anything. But I'd rather now. If you know what I mean. 
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