Franklin Truong

I like to lay in bed all day.

Background Illustrations provided by: http://edison.rutgers.edu/
Reblogged from mimixhuynh  94,144 notes

I won’t beg someone to love me. I learned long ago that there is no use in hopeless pleas of trying to make someone stay. I am too good to chase someone who does not know my worth and I am too wild to keep waiting for someone who doesn’t acknowledge my value. I want to be loved unconditionally. I shouldn’t have to fight so hard for it. I do not have the time to prove to someone that I am worth it. I shouldn’t have to prove any of that; I am worth more than that. By

Ming D. Liu, A Story A Day #138 

(via avvfvl)

Reblogged from kathylaaai  2,718 notes

You try to hurt him, because you don’t care about him, but it actually means that you care more than he will ever care. He hurts you, but he doesn’t care, because he doesn’t know he is hurting you. He doesn’t think about you. By jenn satsune (via elizabethphaiboon)

Reblogged from 4ndesine  4 notes

I’m filled with melancholy- but not the misery that’s fun to write about it. Not the poetic sadness that finds home in romanticized metaphors of cigarettes or talk of “the soul” or “the human experience” or advice that “dark emotions are beautiful.” Rather it is the melancholy that stunts you and leaves you numb to every positive experience and emotion; numb to poetry and prose, art and expression, good company and bad company, day and night. And that’s when you begin to hate yourself. Because you know you don’t deserve to feel this way. You are not ALLOWED to feel this way. But then you become restless. You become indifferent. Everything blends into a blur and you forget the reasoning behind your madness, your darkness, your light, your sanity. You simply go through the motions and remind yourself of your humanity, yet you forget that you are made of light, and maybe you are even a little bit afraid of it. By M.A.  (via thedisparate)