I can’t picture anyone daydreaming about me. I can’t picture someone thinking about me when they’re laying in bed before they fall asleep. I can’t picture anyone telling their friends about me. I can’t picture anyone getting butterflies because I hugged them, or even just because I made eye contact with them. I can’t picture someone smiling because my name lit up their phone. I just can’t.
It fucking pisses me off when extra people are added to your plans without your knowledge. Like what the fuck. Now, we don’t have enough room in the car. Seriously, I don’t expect to have to drag others around when they weren’t asked to go.
“when i was five years old, my mom told me that happiness was the key to life. when i went to school, they asked me what i wanted to be when i grew up. i wrote down ‘happy’. they told me i didn’t understand the assignment. i told them they didn’t understand life.”—john lennon (via au-rev0ir)