Augusten Burroughs, You Better Not Cry
(via wenevertalkanymore)
Poetic rants and
nauseating posts that
may relate to the
Capitalized You.
• My other blog is art stuff.
• Yous and Me
• Quandaries
Sad Things You Never Say Outloud
nauseating posts that
may relate to the
Capitalized You.
• My other blog is art stuff.
• Yous and Me
• Quandaries
Sad Things You Never Say Outloud
When you see pictures of your friends hanging out and you weren’t invited
Hah.
I’m inhaling, close my eyes, exhale.
Imagine
feeling alone and desolate,
sweeping judgement calls made about
you and your “lifestyle”, but you just turned
twenty-one,
21, a month and a half ago and
before you know it, people are
talking about you and they hate your very
existence
on this earth, little earth, and you’re just
a small speck, a tiny blip on anyone’s radar and
no one really sees you.
Inhale once more and
Imagine
what your life was like before things got turned
up
s
i
d
e
down, and
before you started to drown in excess and
in people and
the smoke and the beer and the whiskey.
Now,
ex haaaaaaaaaaale and
breathe it all away.
She’s sitting in the wicker chair I sat in
months ago, laughing, drinking in words and
beer and enjoying the festivities while I sit
at home
alone
labeled a social pariah because I started
hanging out with her in the first place.
“I get it now. I get it. The things you hope for the most are the things that destroy you in the end.”
— John Green and David Levithan, Will Grayson, Will Grayson (via anditslove)
(via oceanstodrownin)
Don’t take Yourself so seriously,
Because I actually hate you.
Better than hate,
I couldn’t give a fucking shit what
you do.
you lower-case you.
Fuck off. Don’t talk to me.
Pretend I never existed after three years.
Even after three years.
you don’t know my name.
And I don’t know yours.
