These are my favorite sorts of people: tragically uncomprehended fools, dreamers, introverts, bashful lovers, raindrop runners. The ones with rebel imagination and throughshine skin. The ones who don’t sleep at night. The ones who draw mermaids and wildflowers into notebooks soiled by handling. The ones who talk in archaisms. The ones who are gentle, secretive and endessly vulnerable who spend their lives escaping against themselves.
“I’ve got a bad case of the 3:00 A.M. guilts - you know, when you lie in bed awake and replay all those things you didn’t do right? Because, as we all know, nothing solves insomnia like a nice warm glass of regret, depression and self-loathing. Okay, I don’t really hate myself. But I do piss myself off, quite a bit, actually and sometimes I need a good, stern talking-to about important elements in my life.”—(via lilac-skulls)