Post Nublia Phoebus.

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‎"This must be what love feels like. Oh, how I hate it. But ah, what it does to me."

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“Bare in mind that this is your chance, this is your shot at life. You have this to prove yourself. But don’t go and see it as an excuse for bad decisions. You life will still be running, you should make the best out of it, and not what ever comes up on your path. Don’t waste your time.

After all, you are only as young as you are this very moment.”

I’m scared of failing, of failing miserably, never succeeding, never making it the way I planned it in the first place.

And it’s my fault, it will be. I am who I am because of the decisions I make. And I don’t like the way they turn out. I don’t like the way I see, feel, think and to be honest even write.

I thought I found myself, thought I knew who I was or wanted to be. But I don’t. I know nothing.

I guess it’s just a part if growing up.

But what if our action affect out furture? (They always seem to.)

I’m never growing up.

(Source: leftoversfordinner)

… Just seeing what is perfect to different people.