I walk around the school hallways and look at the people. I look at the teachers and wonder why they’re here. If they like their jobs. Or us. And I wonder how smart they were when they were fifteen. Not in a mean way. In a curious way. It’s like looking at all the students and wondering who’s had their heart broken that day, and how they are able to cope with having three quizzes and a book report due on top of that. Or wondering who did the heart breaking. And wondering why.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower; Stephen Chbosky (via loveandsomeotherverses)
If you were mine, I’d kiss your ankles and neck and the tip of your nose. I’d bring you film canisters filled with love notes and interesting books and I’d send you texts with random facts whenever I discovered something new. I’d show up at your house at midnight with a pot of your favourite kind of tea and a blanket and tell you to come down so we could lie down on your lawn and look at the stars. I’d go into the city with you and throw away your map and search for someplace beautiful. I’d photograph you every day. I’d buy you baggy t-shirts and sing to you constantly. I’d give you your space if you wanted it, I’d make you mixes for every week we’d been together, I’d hold your hand underwater, and I’d love you until you asked me not to.
Camryn Pulaski Day (via thyroids)
(Source: atomos)
