"There was an intimacy along with the obvious awkwardness. It had all been a lie but the earlier feelings were real; people had gotten emotionally involved. The truth merely shattered illusions and in some respects I don’t think anyone involved was happy about this. We see the things we want to see along with what we want others to see about us. In an age where we curate our lives digitally, choosing the things we present on Facebook, blogs, Twitter, countless other networks, can we ever know the truth about someone? Aren’t we all choosing the most flattering versions of ourselves to represent us? We untag unflattering photos, don’t share the more embarrassing or uglier details of our lives, and pick and choose what we present."
—
Anaïs Escobar at a bright wall in a dark room.: Catfish (2010) (via youveescaped)
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately mostly because I read recently that we only ever really show 10% of ourselves of who are to people, regardless of which side of that it is and where we show it (in real life or online). Maybe it’s not as deceptive as this movie turned out to be based on this review (I have yet to watch it), but I guess you never really know anyone 100% whether as a friend, lover or stranger.
(via 52hearts)(via 52hearts)
(Source: lovebug)
"Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you’ve finished just to stay near it."
— Markus Zusak (via loveyourchaos)
I’ve got my book :) have you got yours?
(via poeticheartache)
Most nights, sleep stays at a distance so far that it cannot be seen. My mind will race a million miles an hour, never slowing down, no matter how much I beg. Most nights I think about everything that happened throughout the day; things I wish I could go back and do differently, things I wish I could replay over and over, like a skipping record. Sometimes, I will think about a man. The only man in my life who has ever inspired me. I will think about how hard it was to let him go and how easy life would have been if I had stuck around. I would have never gotten what I wanted, but at least I would have had him. Is it possible that he could have still been an inspiration even without the heartache? Sometimes I think not. Sometimes I keep thinking about it, changing my mind, changing my heart.
Some nights I think of other people I have lost. Those who have lost their lives, whether by their own hand or the cruel ways of the world. We are all so young, each and every one of us. We all day before we are ready and I wonder if life really flashes before your eyes in the last seconds you have left. Usually I will lay in bed, eyes shut, thinking about how this person I once knew, once spoke with, once hugged, has ceased to exist. The face that someday we will all cease to exist scares the shit out of me. These are things I think about late at night when sleep doesn’t come easy.
I’ll make tonight different, though. I’ll lay in bed, clear my mind, and look forward to tomorrow. This may bring on another barrier between sleep and I, but I will fight it down if it is the last thing I do. I’ll drift to sleep and dream of things I would have never thought imaginable and once I wake, I will know that nothing is impossible; not in our dreams, not in our lives.
