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It has been said that time heals all wounds, I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissues, and then pain lessens, but is never gone. 
By Rose Kennedy (via themilkywhiteway)
It has been said that time heals all wounds, I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissues, and then pain lessens, but is never gone. 
1
2 AM thoughts
How can one think of someone else, feel something genuine for them, touch them and love them, then when it ends, be able to, either right away or later on, do the same to another? How can it be love if it’s not reserved for solely 2 people? How can you love many people in your lifetime? Romantic love, I mean. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of romantic love? Love is supposed to be eternal. A love that can last forever and through anything, and still have the passion at the end that it had at the beginning. Or maybe I’ve been, or rather all of us, have been mislead. Mislead to believe that love, and that life, is supposed to be like a fantasy. And that when you meet someone you fall in love with, you’re supposed to be with them forever, and that with life, that although there will always be ups and downs, it’ll always end the right way. Things will end in harmony, and a person will leave their current life and enter death with peace. I almost feel a sense of betrayal for being incorrectly informed and continuing to be about what life is. But that’s not what life is. That’s not what true life is. I would say that in my heart, I want to believe that life is how it’s supposed to be. But my head knows that there is no real purpose to life. People are not here for a reason. There is no god, no greater power, no destiny for anyone. Nothing is “supposed” to happen. Things are all random, they happen simply because they do. That’s all life is. When people try to find the meaning behind life’s random incidents it makes me see how truly pathetic they are. Even if it’s comforting for you to believe, how can you be so naive to the truth? But then again, maybe the logic I have about this is not the logic that everyone has or is able to have. I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Every time I write something or think something at some point I get so exhausted from going over it again and again in my head to try to make some sense of it all and my mind just gets burnt out after a while. I feel like my thoughts and my actions are pointless. They are all something someone has done before, something someone has thought before. I guess that’s all I mean.
1
today
there were a bunch of really old developed photos on the kitchen counter so i picked them up and looked at them and there were some of me and my friends when i went to catalina, some of wesley looking really unhappy, some of wesley and i at our first communion, some of wesley and i both looking really unhappy, lots of unflattering close ups, one of wesley with a gerbil on his shoulders, andhundreds of pictures that wesley took of our old guinea pig. ~childhood
