- Charles Bukowski (via ilikemyfrogmorethanyou)
I come into people’s lives. I charm them. I flash a knowing smile and tell them a story. I make them love me. But eventually, I disappoint them. There comes a time when I no longer feel the need to hide. I take off the mask that they’ve looked at for so long and let them see how terrible my demons really are. Then, I leave. I disappear and all that’s left are memories and a bad aftertaste. I do this over and over and I just can’t stop it.
what if with our first clot of air when we are born we inhale a soul, and every time we breathe out, we squeeze a tiny part of our souls out. would our final breath actually be the very last soul fragment leaving our bodies?
Woah woah wait
you know those things that say “you become like the 5 people you hang out with the most”
that would explain why, because you would actually be inhaling little parts of them over time
Oh my god