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“Like driving along a bumpy road and losing control of the steering wheel, tossing you--just a tad--off the road. The wheels kick up some dirt, but you're able to pull it back. Yet no matter how hard you try to drive straight, something keeps jerking you to the side. You have so little control over anything anymore. And at some point, the struggle becomes too much--too tiring--and you consider letting go. Allowing tragedy...or whatever...to happen.”
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Jay Asher
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“But you can't get away from yourself. You can't decide not to see yourself anymore. You can't decide to turn off the noise in your head.”
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Jay Asher
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“You don’t know what goes on in anyone’s life but your own. And when you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re not messing with just that part. Unfortunately, you can’t be that precise and selective. When you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re messing with their entire life. Everything. . . affects everything.”
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“Here is The Boy with the Thorn in His Side, dying in your world. A man made monster with every human emotion, overdosed on worthlessness in a world that could never wrap it’s head around him (so don’t even try).
When it’s all over just remember every single word you ever said was always just a bullet to his head. Bury him underground between friends and love - the only things that are gonna make it to the end with him. Look for his body buried beneath where the yellow weeds are growing and know he’s still living in his nightmares.”
― Pete Wentz, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
When it’s all over just remember every single word you ever said was always just a bullet to his head. Bury him underground between friends and love - the only things that are gonna make it to the end with him. Look for his body buried beneath where the yellow weeds are growing and know he’s still living in his nightmares.”
― Pete Wentz, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
“He sang “I wish I weren’t me” over and over again just flat of the key of love until he forgot the words and could only hum along. Everyday was the same. The same stupid smile on the same stupid boy. Until the days blurred into a haze and the boy dropped into a depression. Not a cool dark room and cigarette depression like the songs he loved, but one that felt like he was being smothered by a safe, suburban, monotonous blanket. Everything felt like a headache to the boy. Every face, every stupid stuttered sentence all wrapped up into the biggest headache ever. So the boy took an aspirin. And another and another and then went to sleep, lullabyed by hopes he would never wake up to.”
― Pete Wentz, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
― Pete Wentz, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
“First he threw out all of his records, trashed his heart and then he went to sleep.”
― Pete Wentz, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
― Pete Wentz, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
“He felt like the last bullet in a gun meant for revenge, sealed with a kiss.”
― Pete Wentz, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
― Pete Wentz, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
“He sharpened his flaws and disappointments into daggers.”
― Pete Wentz, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
― Pete Wentz, The Boy With The Thorn In His Side
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