“Vincent Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would get the happiness inside him. Many people thought he was mad and stupid for doing so because the paint was toxic, never mind that it was obvious that eating paint couldn’t possible have any direct correlation to one’s happiness, but I never saw that. If you were so unhappy that even the maddest ideas could possible work, like painting the walls of your internal organs yellow, than you are going to do it. It’s really no different than falling in love or taking drugs. There is a greater risk of getting your heart broken or overdosing, but people still do it everyday because there was always that chance it could make things better. Everyone has their yellow paint.
“Just fucking tell him. Right now. This is your sign.
Kylie: "whatever @obobrien @ovoryan”
“I don’t know man, one day I just woke up and stopped missing you. I thought about you a lot still, but the aching stopped. Just like that it stopped.
the worst thing is when someone insults you and they’re right
whose arms would I run and fall into
if I were drunk
in a room with everyone
I have ever loved.
—this becomes almost deeper when you think of non-romantic loves too
“Perhaps the fact
that I chased a boy
who ripped me to shreds
says a lot more
than it did about him.