Insomnia.
Insomnia.
I should stop writing important things on small/random pieces of paper.
Damnit.
I wish I was as genius as you.
Your imperfections are what make you perfect.
“9:22, Personal note: When I was a little kid my mother told me not to stare into the sun, so once when I was six, I did. At first the brightness was overwhelming, but I had seen that before. I kept looking, forcing myself not to blink, and then the brightness began to dissolve. My pupils shrunk to pinholes and everything came into focus and for a moment I understood.”
Pi (1998)
(Source: allumer)
Sometimes I wear this thing called a dreas
I doubt I could convince my legs to carry me.