I blame the original challengers of my will for my megalomania. I watched men cry and beg for what I had. Watched them lie, fight, and cheat to keep it once they had it. The power was in keeping it but I was blinded by my tyranny. I drained myself proving men to be juvenile and inexperienced. Still somehow leaving every fight powerless.
Do you ever get like super vulnerable late at night that you just want to spill your heart out and say how you feel because you’ve been holding it in for so long and you just need some ventilation and there’s just something about two in the morning that makes me lose my filter and say the things I would never have the guts to say when the sun is up.
the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day
“You can’t find intimacy—you can’t find home—when you’re always hiding behind masks. Intimacy requires a certain level of vulnerability. It requires a certain level of you exposing your fragmented, contradictory self to someone else. You running the risk of having your core self rejected and hurt and misunderstood.”—Junot Díaz (via redfantasma)
“The use of our intelligence quite properly gives us pleasure. In this respect the brain is like a muscle. When we think well, we feel good. Understanding is a kind of ecstasy.”—Carl Sagan (1934 - 1996)
“One day, you’re 17 and you’re planning for someday. And then quietly, without you ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life.”—John Green (via kushandwizdom)