The Perks of Being a Wallflower

So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.



It might have made sad sense.



It's just that sometimes people use thought to not participate in life.



Charlie, we accept the love we think we deserve.



Not everyone has a sob story, Charlie, and even if they do, it's no excuse.



And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.



I don't know if you've ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That's why I'm trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning.



I guess what I'm saying is that this all feels very familiar. But it's not mine to be familiar about.



I don't know how much longer I can keep going without a friend. I used to be able to do it very easily, but that was before I knew what having a friend was like. It's much easier not to know things sometimes.



Not because she's a bad person or shallow or mean. But because things change. And friends leave. And life doesn't stop for anybody.



I want to make him stop hurting, but I can't. So, I just follow him around whenever he wants to show me his world.



“I would die for you. But I won't live for you.”



I was very grateful to have heard it again. Because I guess we all forget sometimes. And I think everyone is special in their own way. I really do.



There's something about that tunnel that leads to downtown. It's glorious at night. Just glorious. You start on one side of the mountain, and it's dark, and the radio is loud. As you enter the tunnel, the wind gets sucked away, and you squint from the lights overhead. When you adjust to the lights, you can see the other side in the distance just as the sound of the radio fades to nothing because the waves just can't reach. Then, you're in the middle of the tunnel, and everything becomes a calm dream. As you see the opening get closer, you just can't get there fast enough. And finally, just when you think you'll never get there, you see the opening right in front of you. And the radio comes back even louder than you remember it. And the wind is waiting. And you fly out of the tunnel onto the bridge. And there it is. The city. A million lights and buildings and everything seems as exciting as the first time you saw it. It really is a grand entrance.



I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.