The big days never mattered. It’s the small ones that made me fall in love with you.

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It’s a treat andd a new toy.

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(Source: basementtraxx / DaleyMusic)

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" Stop acting so fucking wounded. The only person that can pick you up, push back your shoulders, wipe the tears, mend the broken bones, and get you out of your slump is you. Now go and live,
there is so much to be happy about.

-(via ricesama)

(Source: cudah, via myuniverse-dot-com)

posted 3 days ago / 96,653 notes / reblog

I just came across some very personal letters I hid away since high school. They were all in a tiny box, piled in two big paper clips, that I forgot I kept. About 20 out of the hundreds I have stashed elsewhere in boxes. These letters are from the genuine ages that I so very much miss like nothing before. Nostalgic. Each letter I open, it gives me this heavy feeling- almost like my physical body’s being pushed back to the time that the letters were written. Ridiculous, but serious. I remember the days so well. I remember the moments. Years of 2005-2009. Phearro, Martin, Harley, Jodean, Brianna, and Jessica.

I’m not gonna lie, I lie in bed teary-eyed.

In middle school and in high school, everything was very simple but everything was also very personal. They were the years we spent figuring ourselves out and also figuring out who we allowed ourselves to be associated with. I’m not one to follow a crowd or care for the hierarchical statuses. But I was so different in middle school. I cared so much about nothing. I 180’d in high school though. I was my brothers’ shadow when I went to Natomas High. Quiet and with a small selection of friends. Pretty funny. Really funny when I think about it actually. When I left Natomas and transferred to Inderkum, I wasn’t leaving much at the time. Or I didn’t know I was. In retrospect, the three years I spent at ihs were the greatest years I had being in school. I had a bunch of accomplishments that I’ve overlooked up until now. A senior class representative, #3 singles-player on the tennis team, Storm Bubbles/mediator for NDC, a member of the prom committee, SOS choreographer, Team Marvelous, Multicultural Night performances with my brothers, fundraiser for Darfur, painting the senior float, and a bunch more. Bragging about the past makes you a very sad person. Sad as in sorry-looking. And this post has stretched over to “unnecessary but have gone too far” that I don’t really care. I’m half asleep anyways. I wish I could relive those years. Maybe I’ll dream about them, which can be just as good. (;

Side note, I feel very overwhelmed with the upcoming due dates for my classes. Everything is due at around the same time and it just make my head feel like a volcano.

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We won’t
go home.
We won’t goOo,

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