1. I always thought dying people knew that the end was coming. Turns out I was right. The knowledge is worse, I think, than anything else. Next time, take me in my sleep, won’t you?
2. This is fear. This is horror. This is the end.
3. I don’t know why I tried to convince myself I could stay angry with you. I’ll never hate anyone that I used to love and I can’t figure out why I used to think this was a weakness. Old love doesn’t have anywhere to go. It lies on the bottom of your heart and shivers. It’s cold, but it’s there.
4. Tell them you love them damn it. Tell them. I was supposed to live until my skin was wrinkled like the pages of a book dropped in water but I’m falling to my death 60 fucking years early and I can’t believe I didn’t tell you I loved you. Let this be a lesson. Make things soft, when you can. Make things sweet.
5. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die so why am I only seeing your face?
6. If anyone is still wondering if we loved each other, let them know. We did. We do.
7. I’ve been in my body for 20 years, but I never realized it was borrowed time. So precious, this body, so fragile. Watch it crash. Watch it burn.
8. Why didn’t I laugh every damn minute of every damn day? Why wasn’t I happier? Why didn’t I paint murals on every wall of my bedroom? Why didn’t I kiss your face when I woke up in the morning? Why didn’t I kiss the Moon’s when I fell asleep at night?
9. I don’t understand how there could have ever been any doubt about how beautiful this life is. I’m going to leave this body and this Earth and this is something I can’t wrap my head around although there is barely any time left. The ground is coming faster and faster. Someone should have taught me how to fly.
10. I want to live. I want to live. I want to live.
11. I don’t get to decide these things. It is over now. It just started, but it is over.
11 Things I Learned When I Thought I Was Dying - Fortesa Latifi
for my dear and beautiful friend, emmacareyemmacarey(via madgirlf)
Typewriter Series #809 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text for Tired Eyes:
I am the longing. I am the unscratched surface of my potential. I am the first step waiting to be taken. I am the smirk that won’t wipe off my face. I am the unquenched thirst. I am the desire. I am the patience that is wearing thin. I am the end of the rope. I am the love unspoken for. I am the fear, but I am the courage. I am the uncharted waters. I am the waiting, the waiting, the waiting. I am the glass half full. I am the unspoken understanding. I am the butterfly effect. I am the arms raised in victory, I am the hands holding my head in defeat. I am the moment of clarity. I am the double take. I am the words I scribble. I am the lips unkissed, my hands not held. I am the lyrics. I am the melody. I am the honesty, I am the loyalty. I am the wonder, the beautiful wonder. I am the late night talk. I am the sour and I am the sweet. I am the last blink before sleep. I am the first breath of the morning. I am the goosebumps, I am the sweat. I am the most romantic thing I’ve yet to do. I am the thoughts uncontrollable. I am the raised eyebrow. I am the teardrop tracing the contours of my face. I am the laughter, the uncensored laughter. I am the mistakes I’ve made, and the lessons I’ve learned. I am the success. I am the failure. I am the ambition, I am the apathy. I am the opposites inside me. I am the trembling anticipation. I am the love I take. I am the compassion. I am the underestimation I receive. I am the focus I always lose. I am the memories. I am the stolen breath and the skipped heartbeat. I am the worry. I am the calm. I am the smile. I am the freedom, I am the dependence. I am the broken heart. I am the misplaced trust. I am the confidence, but I am the insecurity. I am the faith. I am the logical next step. I am the places I’ve seen. I am the perfect guy for someone. I am the first hello with who she will be. I am the first kiss. I am the first fight. I am the shared dreams. I am the beating of my heart. I am the infinite space between today and tomorrow. I am the last straw. I am the confusion. I am the incompatibility. I am the comfortable silence. I am the wink. I am the thought in the back of my mind. I am the first star I wish on. I am the aching. I am the poetry I write. I am the uncertainty of who it is for. I am the relief, the sweet relief. I am the shadows across my face. I am the peace. I am the lack. I am the happiness I am surrounded by. I am the man I’m becoming. I am the boy I used to be. I am the whole, but I am the pieces. I am the pieces.
-Tyler Knott Gregson-
I’ve been thinking about something lately.
You’re on an airplane, sleeping with your head against the window, your heart set on being home this time three hours from now. All of a sudden, something goes very wrong. The plane stops moving across the air and instead starts falling through it. The lights are flickering and the movie is skipping. The plane dips hundreds of feet in seconds, and the yellow cups fall from the ceiling. They’re a brighter shade of yellow than you remember, because unlike the demonstration, these cups have never been handled before. “Flight attendants take your seats now”, you hear, the pilot’s voice trembling over a cacophony of alert tones. You get that smell in the bridge of your nose like you’ve just been hit with a football. That’s what the fear smells like. The plane is going down.
Four more drastic drops in under a minute. People are crying. For all the folklore about how your life flashes before your eyes, you’re remarkably fixed on one vision – your parents. They’re sleeping at this very moment, in a bedroom so quiet they can hear the clock in the kitchen. And you can see them, clear as can be. You wish you could see a playground or a first kiss, but all you can see is your parents sleeping. Huh. Well, that’s that.
Several long minutes go by. Then, all at once, the lights come back on and the plane somehow rights itself. Some people cheer, but most people cry harder. The plane lands about an hour later, and as soon as you feel that touch down – hell, even when you were within 50 feet of the ground and could still technically survive a fall – you realize that however you brokered the deal between you and God worked; you’ve just been granted life in overtime.
Here’s the question: what do you change? Whom do you call that you haven’t spoken to in years? Whom do you realize has been toxic to your heart and drop with surprising ease? What trips do you cancel, and what trips do you book? What can’t you be bothered with anymore? What’s the new you like?
Think about that, and then ask one more question. Why not just change it all right now?
John Mayer (via contrafuckingband)