— Vincent Freeman, Gattaca (via stannisbaratheon)
We’ll meet somewhere someday and go out for coffee. And that’s when we’ll be able to remember good times we’ve had and see thatthey out weigh the bad and wonder how the other lives.
I’ve been losing friends, I’ve been losing sleep
No time for friends, no time to eat.
Am I feeling for real, or is it just me?
I want to kiss the nape of your neck
and catch you drawing circles into your skin.
I want half of my body to be warm
When you steal the blanket from me in your sleep-
But then arranging yours to mime with mine as silverware in a drawer.
I want to see your dimples-
catch you smiling shy and hazy-eyed.
The way your imperfections upon your milky skin resemble that of the moon in all her majesty-like when we sat together at the cove and she shone her light upon the lake?
At that moment, I knew,
All I wanted to do-
So long as it’s with you.
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so dead on the inside.
All’s sand now from years of mechanical and chemical weathering.
A shell is what I’ve been reduced to.
Any time I see something to put in my body,
I push it a little bit further.
One more toke. One more swig. One more pill. One more.
To feel better.
To feel something.
To feel anything.