Quest for Reason

I don’t want people to tell me it’s okay. That it’s going to be fine. That I’m in good shape and it’s gonna get better.

What I want is people to tell me I fucked up. I screwed around and now I have to get my shit together before all shit breaks loose. That I’m not myself and I ought to be.

I’d want to forgive myself for being human, but I won’t. Because then I start taking pride in being so self-unforgiving, and that’s nothing to take pride in at all.

Maybe it’s not all falling apart. Maybe everything’s just changing and either I can’t keep up or I won’t. And I’ve changed. But what’s not changing and what won’t change are my goals. And because I want to reach them I can and will retain who I am. I’ve read somewhere that, if you’re not scared of your dreams, then they’re not big enough. Which is good because

I’m terrified.

wtfarthistory:

How can you tell if your lover has cheated on you?  Paint a picture on her/his genitals and check that the image never changes.  WTF?!?  Read more below.

Pierre Subleyras, The Pack Saddle (Le Bat), first half of the eighteenth century, oil on canvas.  Private Collection (another version is in the Hermitage, St Petersburg)

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