We are. We are? We are a build up of everything we done, everyone on we’ve met. Everything we’ve done has shaped up. Everyone we’ve met has molded us. We are a creation. Something so complex, and so simple. We are everything and nothing. We are a mess. We are ourselves and nothing more.
People who love only once in their lives are shallow people. What they call...– Oscar Wilde (via xilikeyourbeard)
These fever dreams are making me rethink everything. I don’t know where I am most days and I never know where I’m going. I wish I could have something that would run after me, slap in the face, and yell “I’m what you need.” I need to stop searching for something to complete me. I need to be content with this life. This life I’ve built for myself is a good one....