The key to being happy isn’t a search for meaning. It’s to just keep yourself busy with unimportant nonsense, and eventually, you’ll be dead.

That’s the thing. I don’t think I believe in deep down. I kind of think all you are is just the things that you do.

Here’s to the ones who dream, foolish as they may seem.

Maybe I’m not good enough. Yes, you are.

I’m always gonna love you.

I need you to tell me that I’m a good person. I know I can be selfish and narcissistic and self-destructive, but underneath all that, deep down, I’m a good person.

You know, it’s funny; when you look at someone through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags.

You were born broken, that’s your birthright. And now you can fill your life with projects… but that hole inside you? That’s yours forever.

When you look at someone through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags.

It gets easier. Every day it gets a little easier. But you gotta do it every day. That’s the hard part.

You are all the things that are wrong with you.

I don’t know if she liked me or if she just liked how I made her feel.

Fuck hope.

I miss her because we basically lived together for a week.

I don’t hate that I loved her. I hate that I thought she would love me back.

You figure it out by doing, not by thinking.

How hard can it be.

Keep moving forward.

This is fine.