I wish you were okay.
I wish I could help you.
Most of all, I wish you would let me.
“Look at the earth from outer space
Everyone must find a place
Give me time and give me space
Give me real don’t give me fake
Give me strength, reserve control
Give me heart and give me soul
Give me time, give us a kiss
Tell me your own politik
And open up your eyes, open up your eyes, open up your eyes, open up your eyes”
Even though I could feel every sharp rock beneath my cold, bare feet;
Even though the brisk wind stung my wet, tear streamed face;
Even though catching a breath between sobs felt like a hard task;
Nothing made me want to be there ever again.
Even if a car crumpled my body underneath all its horse power;
Even if I was set ablaze;
Even if I was sinking helplessly to the depths of the ocean;
Nothing would be more beaten and broken than my heart on that night.
after learning this, I know that you are going to rip his poor heart out.
I feel bad for him
everything you said was nice.
the most thoughtful though was:
“You’re important to me.”
I feel different.
I laugh at things I wouldn’t before.
I care about people in a way I never have before.
I’m so conflicted with what’s right and what’s wrong.
“Just love on people.”
“A poor man who oppresses the poor
Is like a driving rain which leaves no food.”
Like a mischievous childhood playmate, memory taunted him from hiding place after hiding place in a deep garden of the past dappled by light and shadow.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean??
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Quit fucking with my head.
Why am i addicted to this?
“Mr. Carpenter, do you believe in the end of all things?”
Joe paused on the threshold. “Excuse me?”
The Gem Fittich who had emerged from the chrysalis of the cheerful salesman was not merely harder edged and edgier; he also had peculiar eyes - eyes different from what they had been, full of not anger but an unnerving pensiveness. “The end of time in our time, the end of this mess of a world we’ve made, all of it just suddenly rolled up and put away like an old moth-eaten rug.”
“I suppose it’s got to end someday,” Joe said.
“Not someday. Soon. Doesn’t it seem to you that wrong and right have all got turned upside down, that we don’t even half know the difference anymore?”
“Don’t you wake up sometimes in the middle of the night and feel it coming? Like a tidal wave a thousand miles high, hanging over us, darker than the night and cold, going to crash over us and sweep us all away?”
“Yes,” Joe said softly and truthfully. “Yes, I’ve often felt just that in middle of the night.”
caring for those who can not care for themselves.
What I love to do, but no one seems to understand it.
So important to me, but I can not open your eyes. It’s so frustrating. Why don’t you want to be free? Why don’t you want to have no worries? Why don’t you just fucking understand?
I just want to help.
I just want to care for those who can not care for themselves.
you’re already taking advantage of me.
This is why I sit with my middle fingers up.