I hate this feeling. Like I’m here, but I’m not. Like someone cares. But they don’t. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past that snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air.
— Ellen Hopkins, Crank (via whitenes-s)
I still catch myself feeling sad about things that don’t matter anymore.
— Kurt Vonnegut (via stay-ocean-minded)