Jasmine Warga Quotes

You're like a grey sky. You're beautiful, even though you don't want to be.

Sometimes I wonder if my heart is like a black hole-it's so dense that there's no room for light, but that doesn't mean it can't still suck me in.

I once read in my physics book that the universe begs to be observed, that energy travels and transfers when people pay attention. Maybe that's what love really boils down to-having someone who cares enough to pay attention so that you're encouraged to travel and transfer, to make your potential energy spark into kinetic energy.

Something inside me clicks. It's like I've spent my whole life fiddling with a complicated combination only to discover I was toying with the wrong lock.

Guidance counselors always love to say, 'Just think positively,' but that's impossible when you have this thing inside of you, strangling every ounce of happiness you can muster. My body is an efficient happy-though-killing machine.

..because never in my life have I ever been picked when there was another alternative.

I don't know how to describe it, but the more I stare at him, the more I see his grief wrapped around him like shackles he can never take off.

I can't wait until they don't have me here anymore.

I don't like songs about wanting things. I like songs about letting go, saying goodbye.

I wish I could draw you how I see you. I'd draw a boy with the most magnetic smile, and the kindest hands, and eyes that are gloomy, but can sometimes be bright. I'd draw a boy who deserves to see the ocean.

Maybe we all have darkness inside of us and some of us are better at dealing with it than others.

I will be stronger than my sadness.

What people never understand is that depression isn't about the outside; it's about the inside.

I spend a lot of time wondering what dying feels like. What dying sounds like. If I’ll burst like those notes, let out my last cries of pain, and then go silent forever. Or maybe I’ll turn into a shadowy static that’s barely there, if you just listen hard enough.

I bet if you cut open my stomach, the black slug of depression would slide out.

Anyone who has actually been that sad can tell you that there's nothing beautiful or literary or mysterious about depression.

I wonder if that's how darkness wins, by convincing us to trap it inside ourselves, instead of emptying it out.
I don't want it to win.

He was fucking sad. That's it. That's the point. He knows life is never going to get any different for him. That there's no fixing him. It's always going to be the same monotonous depressing bullshit. Boring, sad, boring, sad. He just wants it to be over.

He knows what he'll find if he digs deeper. there's no rush to unpack my insides. he understands there is nothing special about emptiness, nothing interesting about depression.