Eu não saberia o que dizer, vendo tudo isso.
Que estranho sentimento esse de ir se recordando das menores coisas;
te tomar consciência de que a vida existiu muito antes do seu cansaço de hoje.
E de pensar em tudo, tanta coisa, que ainda está por vir, me sinto exaurida, ao mesmo tempo que curiosa.
Quero ir, mas tenho preguiça
tenho preguiça e medo.
Tento ficar mas é inevitável no fim que a gente vá.
Estamos sempre indo, movimento constante, fico tonta.
Eu não saberia dizer o que quero dizer com isso;
tentar criar algo pra quê?
E antes disso, e depois disso
não sei como ser agora.
Razões para ser feliz hoje…
repito e repito e repito
e no fim, nunca, nunca é o que quero, o que espero
bato o pé, não é desse jeito
Mas é do jeito que é, e irei dormir, porque é preciso acordar, é preciso trabalhar, é preciso conviver,
é preciso, é preciso, é preciso.
e faço. e fazemos todos
até que tudo muda e nem sequer nos damos conta,
ai um dia resolvemos olhar pra trás, como quem não quer nada de especial
e qual surpresa!
Passou-se tanta coisa
e no fundo nada mudou.
Foram somente os sonhos que tive aquela noite…
Sonhava, dentro do sonho, que no meio do barco havia um mar. E dentro do mar eu dormia sonhando que dentro de mim havia um barco onde havia um mar.
E dessa forma passavam-se os dias arrastados,
e a cada hora a cada dia que transcorria,
a cada segundo eu começava a me tomar mais consciência que meu barco nunca sairia do lugar, ao menos não com tanto mar dentro dele.
As pessoas estranhas que moram dentro da gente e sussurram loucuras.
(Source: red-lipstick, via thinkaboutmestill)
It’s taboo to admit that you’re lonely. You can make jokes about it, of course. You can tell people that you spend most of your time with Netflix or that you haven’t left the house today and you might not even go outside tomorrow. Ha ha, funny. But rarely do you ever tell people about the true depths of your loneliness, about how you feel more and more alienated from your friends each passing day and you’re not sure how to fix it. It seems like everyone is just better at living than you are.
A part of you knew this was going to happen. Growing up, you just had this feeling that you wouldn’t transition well to adult life, that you’d fall right through the cracks. And look at you now. La di da, it’s happening.
Your mother, your father, your grandparents: they all look at you like you’re some prized jewel and they tell you over and over again just how lucky you are to be young and have your whole life ahead of you. “Getting old ain’t for sissies,” your father tells you wearily.
You wish they’d stop saying these things to you because all it does is fill you with guilt and panic. All it does is remind you of how much you’re not taking advantage of your youth.
You want to kiss all kinds of different people, you want to wake up in a stranger’s bed maybe once or twice just to see if it feels good to feel nothing, you want to have a group of friends that feels like a tribe, a bonafide family. You want to go from one place to the next constantly and have your weekends feel like one long epic day. You want to dance to stupid music in your stupid room and have a nice job that doesn’t get in the way of living your life too much. You want to be less scared, less anxious, and more willing. Because if you’re closed off now, you can only imagine what you’ll be like later.
Every day you vow to change some aspect of your life and every day you fail. At this point, you’re starting to question your own power as a human being. As of right now, your fears have you beat. They’re the ones that are holding your twenties hostage.
Stop thinking that everyone is having more sex than you, that everyone has more friends than you, that everyone out is having more fun than you. Not because it’s not true (it might be!) but because that kind of thinking leaves you frozen. You’ve already spent enough time feeling like you’re stuck, like you’re watching your life fall through you like a fast dissolve and you’re unable to hold on to anything.
I don’t know if you ever get better. I don’t know if a person can just wake up one day and decide to be an active participant in their life. I’d like to think so. I’d like to think that people get better each and every day but that’s not really true. People get worse and it’s their stories that end up getting forgotten because we can’t stand an unhappy ending. The sick have to get better. Our normalcy depends upon it.
You have to value yourself. You have to want great things for your life. This sort of shit doesn’t happen overnight but it can and will happen if you want it.
Do you want it bad enough? Does the fear of being filled with regret in your thirties trump your fear of living today?
We shall see. — You’re Not Making The Most Of Your 20s by Ryan O’Connell (via daily-revivals)
(Source: hidingfromoursins, via mindrecordings)