“I love the little things in life but when it comes to me, why do I find those little things about myself hard to love? I am everything I need.”

My headspace is a playground and I’m still delayed in its construction.

I am not sorry for the way I love. I am only sorry for loving people who haven’t a clue on how to love themselves.

If there’s no struggle, you haven’t struggled yet.

For being still can either bring one clarity or chaos. You decide what the silence is worth.

I no longer seek the love I think I deserve but rather the love I’ve always deserved.

I was in love with my own chaos, gripping tightly onto fantasies, falling into traps that swallowed me whole. I am in awe of how chaotic I am, as falling hard into my own trap saved me from who I became.

Are you only surrounding yourself with people because they add to your life or are you filling a void?

The beauty in the suffering is not the lack of love they have, it’s the depth of love they swam into that drowned them among their highest waters.

We start looking for approval from strangers when we feel we can’t approve of ourselves.

We are perfectly imperfect human beings.

If I were a garden and the seed were my soul, thus blooming is a process but I’m impatient.

You can’t appreciate the sunshine if you’ve never stood in the rain.

The wind tickles my skin trees bend back and forth sunlight kisses the earth and yet with no sound at all, I hear everything. I am peace.

People who do not make room to love you, simply do not make room to love themselves.

The lava that erupts from the volcanoes has been reoccurring for far too long and even tho I’ve been warned that my lava can burn others I can’t help but erupt at the possibility that someone will want to burn for me.

It’s okay to water your own plants. Expecting the rain to come when your plants haven’t fully grown, will stall your blooming. Don’t wait for others.

My soul is to sell. The dark is too hard to beat ’cause they’re calling me.

Life gets harder the smarter you get, the more you know.

To ask the right question is harder than to answer it.

That person who is the hardest to forgive is the one who can teach you the greatest lessons. When you love yourself enough to rise above the old situation, then understanding and forgiveness will be easy. And you’ll be free.

Life is very hard, isn’t it? It does kill you, after all.

I don’t love traveling, because I’m never home. It’s hard when you have a family.

Remember well, and bear in mind, a constant friend is hard to find.

I know your story is hard to tell without choking up or caving in but the world could learn a lesson or two from the one who weathered silent storms. – silent storms.