I’ve always been a believer in persistence. As a grade-schooler, I was told that it was the one quality that would get me somewhere in life. Perhaps I took it too seriously and held it too close to heart. Like they say, anything you hold too dear to you will hurt you the most.

As time passes, friendships no longer means mere companions during play time, they grow a certain sense of vitality, with the possibly of becoming amazingly beautiful and rewarding, or utterly lethal and earth shattering.

Perhaps it’s because of our different upbringings and paths undertaken prior to our convergence. This is where things can get rather disturbing. When two minds meet, when two souls converse, the extent of passion and dedication to which individuals decide to pour into a friendship may vary drastically. Whilst she may feel like your thought whisperer and he may resemble the brother that you never had, your existence in their life may constitute as absolutely minimal. Whilst you may be willing to disclose your most ashamed secrets, and perhaps even take a bullet for them without flickering a thought of doubt, they may regard you as a replaceable individual in their social circle.

That’s when it’ll hurt, more than the penetration of the sharpest spear, more than the slitting of the sharpest blade, the pain is indescribable because you had your heart and soul on the table and they’re not even willing to reveal their true colours. What do you do at the realisation of such blunt truths? Is the only remedy ignorance, turning a blind eye, acceptance of the fact that somebody just recklessly denied your value of existence? What do you do when the pain is too unbearable and the only option seemingly available is to believe their denial of your worthiness? Are you to blame for being the sole culprit of your diminution? Words can be the sharpest daggers, thoughts can be the most dangerous killers, the self can be the most cunning and manipulative enemy.

Run, hide, escape.

Run, hide, escape.

(Source: fckinglies, via turnandrun)

"

Seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state
A tourist in the waking world, never quite awake
No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber
Until I realize that it was you who held me under

Felt it in my fist, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids
Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs

No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone
No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world

And I could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack
All around the world was waking, I never could go back
Cause all the walls of dreaming, they were torn wide open
And finally it seemed that the spell was broken

And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open
And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open

No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone
No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love
No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world

Snow White’s stitching up your circuit-boards
Someone’s slipping through the hidden door
Snow White’s stitching up your circuit-board

"

Florence Welch, Blinding

(Source: liquid-diamonds-flowing)

sultry nights, blurry mornings,what is sleep.

sultry nights, blurry mornings,
what is sleep.

(Source: k-a-m-p-f, via sextintion)

let me run.

let me run.

(Source: opaqueglitter, via dancing-with-despair)

what do you do
when you feel like you’re drowning in your own pool of blood
when you feel like you’re helplessly sinking into a botttomless pit of evil thoughts
when you can hear the clock ticking, seconds passing, your breath fading

do you try to hold on?
what if you get tired of holding on?
what are you even holding on for - hope, love, gratitude?
what happens when all that is not enough?

you know that are people that care (at least you desperately try to tell yourself that’s the truth)
but what happens when all that is not enough?

you know there is a bleak chance that you will get out of this - recover, find happiness, being able to live a ‘normal’ (what even) life
but what happens when all that is not enough?

who will be there to hold your hand if you decide to embark on this hardest battle of your life?
who will be there to constantly remind you of the light at the other end of the tunnel to keep you motivated?
who will be there to just tell you “i understand” and offer their empathy as you cry and tear yourself to pieces when it all becomes too much?

you know you should fight,
and you know you should do it soon before it all gets too late,
but the fear of having to do it ll alone is too overwhelming, too torturous,
you’d rather just lie here rotting away with the ticking time,
because you’re exhausted of fighting, you’re sick of the endless cycles of fighting, of breaking to pieces, of tiresome, ineffective attempts of replenishing.

You offer your mind and your soul to the dark Lords,
perhaps that is your only option left -

at least, maybe, hopefully, you won’t have to fight anymore.

"Some do drugs, others go out for a run, but at the end we’re all just searching for that tiny space, perhaps a hole, that gives us shelter from the terrible reality of the world."

(Source: koreyan, via vegievixen)