I will admit that sometimes I make mistakes, and I hurt people. I will admit that I have regrets and am ashamed of the things in my past, but to me, I will always be able to maintain who I am, and I will always be happy. So, no matter how many times you throw your curses and hate at me, I will still be who I am and who I want to be. I am a human, and I deserve as much love and happiness as anyone else. I’m trying to be a better person, and even if someone doesn’t think I deserve anything, I know that I still have the world to gain.

I am so much more than what you think.

I love books. I love reading and turning pages. I love the smell of old books and even new books. There’s just something about the anticipation of turning a page that makes me love books all the more. I am always around people who say they hate reading, and for some reason it never fails to surprise me. Only because basically everyone in my family loves to read and we always have a book with us. I don’t know.

When I read a new book, it’s like I’m delving into the author’s mind. What they think about and the things they’ve experienced; it’s all so fascinating. Movies are easier to comprehend because it’s right there in front of you and you don’t really need to use your brain while watching them. (not bashing on movies because the creators and movie writers are brilliant) But with a book, it’s like you’re daring your mind to think of things bigger than what you are. You’re probing at every inch of imagination, willing each character to be happy because it’s like you know them on a personal level.

“We read to know we are not alone.” - C.S. Lewis

just because someone believes in God doesn’t mean they’re close minded. 

Shut up, and if you’re saying that those who believe in God should accept others, while you’re sitting their bashing and doing the same non-accepting thing, how about you practice what you preach and stop being such an ostracizing hypocrite.

Thank you.

If there’s no point in life, if we are just living to die and then become nothing, who’s to say what’s right and wrong? Why should there be a right and wrong? Where do we get off saying that murdering someone is wrong, when we are all just living to die anyways? If you think of it that way, killing someone is just a way to quicken the inevitable. Maybe our right is wrong, and our wrong is right. Or maybe the right that some people think is wrong, isn’t actually wrong, but right? 

Our conscience feels guilty when we do wrong, and feels glad when we do right, but what’s the point of even having a conscience if it’s going to die when we do? Sure, what we do in this life will echo through eternity, but if the world is supposed to end like some believe, what is the point of doing right? What’s the point of not doing what’s wrong? Why try to be good, when in the end it will all be for nothing? Yes, do good for the sake of doing good. Help others be happy. But how do you know that the good you’re doing is going to even help? Because in the end it all is meaning less. We are all bound to die and become the earth like we used to be. Thus,

Life is meaningless. 

I love seeing him every day. I love that he loves God. I love that we can love God together. I love that he makes my heart feel glad constantly. I love that the only thing we argue about is what video game we are going to play next. I love that he makes me want to be a better person. I love that he tells me how it is, and doesn’t keep important things from me. I love how annoyingly goofy he is, and how he can make me laugh no matter what. I love his kindness and faithfulness. I love that he loves me so much and it makes me realize that love is supposed to feel good. Love isn’t supposed to hurt. It’s not supposed to suddenly wake you up at night and make you cry.

Love is supposed to gently call your name in the morning, and whisper things that make your heart flutter. Maybe I was never truly in love before, and I know I’m not now, but this person..he’s so comfortably embedded in my heart and I want to feel a comforting love like this forever.

Like you’re losing touch of everything. Like reality is kind of just slipping away and everything feels like a dream. A day goes by without another thought and before you know it a whole week, month, or even a year is gone. And you can’t get those moments back.

I think I’m extremely tired. And for some reason, each day is a struggle, but it doesn’t feel real. I’m questioning everything and it scares me. I feel like a ghost. Like I’m passing through and nobody really sees me. Like I have no purpose. No meaning. 

Why am I so worried about what other people say? Honestly, keep the hate coming. Keep throwing your stones and spitting out words intended to hurt. Because despite all of it, I’m rising so high above you. I’m not looking down on you, but looking forward and up. Looking at things so much better than your pathetic attempt to crush a spirit like mine. It’s not your place and never will be your place to judge me.

So keep it coming. Your words mean absolutely nothing to me.

Luke Hummelgard

I would just like to say thank you for being my boyfriend for two years, and now my friend. 

It’s crazy to think where we started, and now where we are now. You’ll always be that light at the end of the tunnel for me, no matter how many people get in the way. 

Thanks for teaching me so much about happiness and being stern when it came to finding it on my own.

:) 

I guess this is where I will just say that I am thankful for the people in my life right now.

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I think there’s a point where you are so lonely and alone, that you don’t even feel anymore. You don’t really feel time passing by and you don’t feel the absence of someone. It’s like your body is an empty vessel and for some inconceivable reason, you’re still able to get by just fine.