.. .. .. .

Things end on the last day of the very same month that brought them to life. 

I probably thought I could fly. 

Then something - call it fate, or probably a heavy weight - dragged me down. And while I fight to breathe, part of me enjoys the chocking feeling of being left alone, the muddy smell of freedom, yet of despair. 

The mistake is believing it could have been that special. 

I was told there was no fresh air, not anymore. Not for me, anyway. And I agreed. 

I breathe my daily fog, my dose of reality. I choke myself with polluted ideas: shadows of disappointment and crumbs of disillusionment. 

But what if they were all wrong? But what if the right answer is really only just one? 

patty-be:

margot tenenbaum - apparently it’s wes anderson hour. this was my costume last halloween - it’s killer. try it. 

(Source: theonlygoodthings)

The day I never thought would have come, came.