It is difficult to find happiness within oneself, but it is impossible to find it anywhere else.

Arthur Schopenhauer (via tra-ff-ic) —

I just write what I wanted to write. I write what amuses me. It’s totally for myself.

J.K. Rowling (via writers-blocks) —

You and I will meet again, When we’re least expecting it, One day in some far off place, I will recognize your face, I won’t say goodbye my friend, For you and I will meet again.

— Tom Petty

holybloodlustbatman:

Sometimes carrying the burden of an upsetting truth, and hiding it, is actually a gift you give to someone else. You bear that burden, so they don’t have to, in a situation where telling them will change nothing.

It happened while he was at school.

He had slept through class for the umpteenth time that week, to find his friends shaking his shoulders boding him to wake, lest they leave him behind. Again.

As Junpei leaves with Kenji and Kaz, Yukari sticks around, prodding his shoulder.

“Tired again?”

Her voice rings in his ears, and he nods lazily in response. Others, like his friends, called it exhaustion but they would never know.

In fact, there were many things about Minato Arisato that others wouldn’t or ever get the chance to know.

He never thought he’d see the day where someone would point out something something that he didn’t know about himself.

“Minato… were your eyes always blue?”

He stared at her, fully attentive for once.

To his knowledge, his eyes have always been gray.

He would answer, but she stops and rubs her eyes. Blinking, she looks into his eyes, before turning away, a slight, but noticeable blush gracing her features.

“… Never mind. I guess it was just a trick of light. Oh, um… will you be heading back early again?”

He shrugs, and stands up with his book bag in tow. Most likely. He had nothing to do.

“Oh. Okay.” There’s that unmistakable disappointed tone in her voice. ”See you later then, Minato.”

And thus, she leaves, and he is left alone. He goes forward— it’s the only thing he knows how to do now.

As he walks home, a glimmer of blue catches his eye as he glimpses at a department store window. He stops.

Blue, and not gray.

His eyes. How did this go unnoticed?

All persons ought to endeavor to follow what is right, and not what is established.

Aristotle (via thiswholelifeisahallucination) —

All he as doing was buying it—

For those in the past who had shown the way,

For the present that he and his friends fought to save,

For those who would come after—

He would give them time.

I think it’s very healthy to spend time alone. You need to know how to be alone and not be defined by another person.

Oscar Wilde (via lifeofanobsoletegirl) —

Sometimes, as a child, he would cover his eyes.

To keep them closed from the ugly truth that prevailed around this wretched world, where despair and judgments of the clouded reigned supreme. Where power was in the masses, and words meant nothing if they had no justification.

The truth was ugly.

So were the adults that didn’t believe him.

Sometimes, someone kept them close for him—

Not that it helped. Nor did it make a difference.

He could still hear. 

And the truth was still ugly.

The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, an an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross (via elephanteccentricity) —