Four in the morning, with parts of my broken heart,
and certainly not with a clear mind.
I feel that I've became the immature version of myself which I hate,
a part of me desperately searching for old me.

I know you're clueless, I know.


"Maybe it's because I want to cry because I will never be able to fix everything that so desperately needs repair. Maybe it's because I, myself, am so far beyond repair. Maybe it's because I'm always feeling trapped. But whatever it is that's making me want to live has settled inside of me and it won't calm down till my hands are in the air and I'm running, running nowhere and everywhere as fast as I can. I just want to run, to live, maybe it's the greying hope for the future. Maybe it's the teenage angst, the desire to get away. Or maybe, just maybe, its because I'm destined for something more than this."


He always says that he doesn't get what tumblr is for, it's just reblogging of photos. I didn't know how to explain this special thing to him either. But today I've realized.. It is about searching for myself. Tumblr is about searching yourself.

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