they’ll probably mispronounce my name at my funeral

the moral of the story is never have feelings for anybody ever

i love autumn. the leaves fall and die like my hopes and dreams

i always get mad at myself for not talking to people but when i talk to people i get mad at myself because i dont know how to talk to people

Sometimes at night I suddenly become aware of all the things I’m missing out on right now, and all the people who I’m not close to anymore, and all of the good times that will never happen again, and all the people who meant the world to me who have forgotten about me forever, and I get this awful feeling that’s kind of like a mix between loneliness and nostalgia.