I think that you find your own way. You have your own rules. You have your own understanding of yourself, and that’s what you’re going to count on. In the end, it’s what feels right to you. Not what your mother told you. Not what some actress told you. Not what anybody else told you but the still, small voice.
Most people love you for who you pretend to be… to keep their love, you keep pretending—performing. You get to love your pretense… it’s true, we’re locked in an image, an act.
And, the sad thing is, people get so used to their image—they grow attached to their masks. They love their chains. They forget all about who they really are. And, if you try to remind them, they hate you for it. They feel like you’re trying to steal their most precious possession.
Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.
People who have only good experiences aren’t very interesting. They may be content, and happy after a fashion, but they aren’t very deep. It may seem a misfortune now, and it makes things difficult, but well—it’s easy to feel all the happy, simple stuff. Not that happiness is necessarily simple. But I don’t think you’re going to have a life like that, and I think you’ll be the better for it. The difficult thing is to not be overwhelmed by the bad patches. You must not let them defeat you. You must see them as a gift—a cruel gift, but a gift nonetheless.
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Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You by Peter Cameron (via justjakob)
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I believe that we are who we choose to be. Nobody’s going to come and save you, you’ve got to save yourself. Nobody’s going to give you anything. You’ve got to go out and fight for it. Nobody knows what you want except for you, and nobody will be as sorry as you if you don’t get it. So never ever give up on your dreams.
I tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim.
