I’d like to believe there’s a reason for my existence, but I can’t.
Some days I’m okay with it, but most days I’m not. I wish I wasn’t so fucked up. I wish I wasn’t aware of how terrible I am, and how terrible the world is.

pes-si-mism:

The Wonder Years // And Now I’m Nothing

I’ll put my life back together in silence
While writing songs on Molly’s guitar
And Suburbia, stop pushing
I know what I’m doing