Maybe were not supose to be happy. Maybe gratitude has nothing to do with joy. Maybe being grateful is recognizing what you have for what it is, appreciating small victories admiring the strugle it takes simply to be human. Maybe we’re thankful for the familar things we know and maybe we’re thankful for the things we will never know. At the end of the day the fact that we have the courage to still be standing is reason enough to celebrate.
And is it worth it? Being responsible? Because if you take your vitamins and pay your taxes, and never cut the line the universe still gives you people to love & lets them slip through your fingers like water. & then what do you got? Vitamins & nothing.
There’s a reason I said I’d be happy alone. It wasn’t ‘cause I thought I’d be happy alone. It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it. It’s easier to be alone. Because what if you learn that you need love and then you don’t have it? What if you like it and lean on it? What if you shape your life around it and then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage. It’s like dying. The only difference is death ends. This? It could go on forever.
The worst feeling is not knowing whether you should wait or give up |
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(Source: killingheels, via peachxxs)
“Sometimes I read the same books over and over and over. What’s great about books is that the stuff inside doesn’t change. People say you can’t judge a book by its cover but that’s not true because it says right on the cover what’s inside. And no matter how many times you read that book the words and pictures don’t change. You can open and close books a million times and they stay the same. They look the same. They say the same words. The charts and pictures are the same colors.
Books are not like people. Books are safe.”
I´ve got my life in a suitcase. Ready to run away…
—Copeland
