excerpt from a book i’ll never write #46

Sometimes people tell us that things are okay even if they don't really mean it but when you whisper it in my ear between kisses after everyone else leaves for the night I somehow believe you might be on to something.

excerpt from a book i’ll never write #44

When I was 11 I had a soccer coach who made us run in circles and when we got dizzy he told us to run the other direction to undo the spinning. Imagine the beauty of living in a world where we could just run the other direction every time the world spun in circles; imagine how simple everything would be if we could undo the shit that made us spin in the first place.

excerpt from a book i’ll never write #36

Do you ever realize how badly you’re going to miss a moment while you’re living it? Like wow, these are good days. I am here and I am happy and I feel alive, and I’m scared I’m never going to feel alive again.

excerpt from a book i’ll never write #35

I burn my mouth and lungs with puffs of nicotine and I realized it feels too good to burn myself alive because darling, we were a perfect match but matches were meant to burn.

excerpt from a book i’ll never write #34

We must have one love, one great love; it gives us an excuse for all the moments we are filled with despair.

excerpt from a book i’ll never write #32

On 11:11, I made a wish. I guess I wished for the same thing that I’ve always wished for since the beginning. My mother always told me that telling my wishes made them not come true, but here’s to the chance that maybe it will anyway. I wish for a life so brave, so unpredictable, and so full of unexpected joys and unforgettable love that no box could ever contain all the memories. I think that with a life like that, no one could ever be sad. My best friend told me today that life moves like a train, and we can either take a seat, or get hit by the flying train cars.

But today I had a thought.

Maybe things aren’t always meant to be. Maybe they don’t always happen for a reason, and we are just reaching and grasping for a way to make sense of the chaos around us. Maybe we are giving meaning to things that have no meaning. And what if we all are clinging to hope so tight that we forget about reality? What if everyone is just wrong? And nothing is meant to be?

Perhaps we are just lost souls wandering endlessly, desperately trying to seek comfort in the notion that things will work out in the end, no matter what. What if we tricked ourselves into believing that everything will be okay just so we don’t have to face the reality that maybe it won’t?

And again, my thoughts consume me.

excerpt from a book i’ll never write #29

The only thing I know for sure is that the day ends, and the stars will come out and darkness is temporary. But don’t the lights in the sky look so beautiful?