"At the end of the day, when it comes down to it, all we really want is to be close to somebody. So this thing where we all keep our distance and pretend not to care about each other, it's usually a load of bull. So we pick and choose who we want to remain close to, and once we've chosen those people, we tend to stick close by. No matter how much we hurt them. The people that are still with you at the end of the day, those are the ones worth keeping."


-Meredith Grey-


This is really making whole lot of sense to me. Really at the end of the day, we just want to be close to somebody, someone that we know we can count on no matter what the circumstances are, someone that we can just pour out what-so-ever that's inside of us and knowing that they will just listen and not judge us by what we did. Someone that we can talk to when things turn out ugly. Personally, I think that it's not the quantity that matters but the quality. It's not about how many friends do you have at the end of the day, but how many of them really stick by you, and those really are the ones worth keeping.

There are moments in our lives when we find ourselves at a crossroads. Afraid. Confused. Without a roadmap. The choices we make in those moments can define the rest of our days. Of course, when faced with the unknown, most of us prefer to turn around and go back. But once in a while people push on to something better. Something found just beyond the pain of going it alone. And just beyond the bravery and courage it takes to let someone in. Or to give someone a second chance. Something beyond the quiet persistence of a dream. Because it's only when you're tested, that you truly discover who you are. And it's only when you're tested, that you discover who you can be. The person you want to be does exist. Somewhere on the otherside of hard work and faith and belief ... and beyond the heartache and fear of what lies ahead.

-Lucas-

My brown hair tangled


as my own tangled thoughts,


I lie here alone,


dreaming of one who has gone,


who stroked my hair till it shone.

I thought it was fitting, don't you?

Currently: In love with James Lafferty.. Y

*drool*

I’d like to remain a secret. A shadow. A background. If no one knows me, no one sees me, no one cares… That would be fine. So no one can break my heart.

The reason why I sleep is that my heart has a tendency to break apart when I’m awake…

Every boy is the same

they aren't looking for love they want sex.

i was right.. love IS just an illusion that leads to reproduction.

you know what hurts most.. is that saying "i love you more" and then you realize that you were right..=/

i love him.. but really though.. think about it. if both really loved each other equally, we wouldn't break up. you only break up because one cared more for the other.

i cared more for him than he did for me.

Please Listen To What I Am Not Saying


Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear.
For I wear a mask, I wear a thousand masks.
Masks that I'm afraid to take off,
and none of them is me.


Pretending is an art that's second nature with me.
But don't be fooled, for God's sake don't be fooled.


I gave you the impression that I'm secure,
that all is sunny and unruffled with me,
within as well as without;
that confidence is my name, and coolness my game;
that the weather's calm and I'm in command,
and that I need no one.


But don't believe me. Please.
My surface may seem smooth, but my surface is my
mask. Beneath lies no smugness, no complacence.
Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in fear,
in aloneness


But I hide this.
I don't want anybody to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness and my fear
of being exposed. That's why I frantically create a
mask to hide behind, a nonchalant, sophisticated
façade to help me pretend,
to shield me from the glance that knows.


But such a glance is prescisely my salvation, my only
salvation. And I know it. That is, if it's followed by
acceptance, if it's followed by love.


It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself,
from my own self-built prison walls, from the barriers
that I so painstakingly erect. It's the only thing that
will assure me of what I can't assure myself, that I'm
really worth something.


But I don't tell you this. I don't care. I'm afraid to.
I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance and love. I'm afraid you'll think less of
me, that you'll laugh, and your laugh will kill me. I'm
afraid that deep down I'm nothing, that I'm just no
good, and that you'll see this and reject me.


So I play my game, my desperate pretending game,
with a façade of assurance without, a trembling
child within. And so begins the parade of masks. And
my life becomes a front. I idly chatter to you in the
suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything
that's really nothing, and nothing of what's everything,
of what's crying withim me.


So when I'm going through my routine, don't be fooled
by what I'm saying. Please listen carefully and try to
hear what I'm not saying, what I'd like to be able to
say, what for survival I need to say, but which I can't
say.


I dislike hiding. Honestly.
I dislike the superficial game I'm playing, the
superficial, phony game.
I'd really like to be genuine and spontaneous and me.
BUT YOU'VE GOT TO HELP ME.