Talking isn’t worth much, if no one listens. It’s like writing stories that no one ever reads. Like drawing pictures no one ever sees. Like being forgotten before you even existed. But it’s so easy they say. So easy to change. Weiterlesen
There is nothing lonelier than standing in the middle of a partying crowd and still being completely alone. I didn’t come here with anyone. I just came to listen to the music. To see one of my favorite bands, something I had wanted in forever. But it’s still just me. Alone in a faceless crowd of cheering people.
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Life is not what we thought it would be
It gets harder every day
And I still can’t forgive you
Even though I think you were right
And I miss you
I always miss you
People say that every wound heals
That every scar means you survived
But isn’t life supposed to be more than survival?
More than just breathing
When does it stop hurting?
When will I ever not be mad at you anymore?
I miss you
It’s every story I ever write
Every lie I tell, every smile I fake
I don’t remember a time when it didn’t hurt
To think about you
And I’m so mad at you for it
But still I miss you, always miss you
Life is complicated. Life is messy. And more often than not, it is also utterly frustrating. Because life always goes on. No matter how much you mess up, no matter how much the past haunts and no matter how much you regret everything you didn’t do. Until it doesn’t. And then it is too late to change. Weiterlesen
Do you sometimes dream of someone who isn’t in your life anymore as if they still were? I do. Not daily, but consistently. And then I wake up missing them. Wondering what went wrong, and it breaks my heart a little every time. Weiterlesen
In my head, I have already written you a whole book, telling you in a very passive-aggressive way how much I really don’t miss you. And another one in which I tell you, how much I do miss you. How much I wish everything could be different and we could still be friends. But that’s not how life works. At least not mine. Weiterlesen
I am terrified of everything that might happen. And anything that I might do. Even though I know I would never consciously try to harm myself. Not physically anyway. And I know I have never been allergic to anything and I am probably the worlds’ most cautious driver. Still, I am terrified. Weiterlesen
You don’t know me. And if you did, you wouldn’t want to. Because I’m not someone people like. I’m the one they talk about once I’m away. I’m the bad example, the pathetic one. The one that everybody just leaves behind. That’s all the voice inside my head keeps telling me. And that voice makes it so easy to believe. Weiterlesen
Wir haben ein Problem mit dem Glücklich sein. Vielleicht, weil wir es nicht sind oder vielleicht, weil wir gerade nichts haben, über das wir uns beschweren können. Immerhin gibt es mittlerweile schon so etwas wie eine Beschwerde-Kultur. Früher nannte man das Troll, heute heißt es „digitaler Mensch“.
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Lerne dich selbst zu lieben – denn wie sollen andere dich lieben, wenn du es selbst nicht tust? Ehrlich gesagt, ich wäre schon zufrieden, wenn ich mich zumindest ein bisschen mögen würde. Oder wenigstens einen kleinen Teil von mir. Irgendetwas. Weiterlesen