It’s not that I don’t appreciate my life sober, but it’s like there are two different people battling inside of me. I want to be good, do good, be a worker among workers, a friend among friends. But there’s also this part of me that is so dissatisfied with everything, If I’m not living on the verge of death, I feel like I’m not really living.
I like cancelled plans. And empty bookstores. I like rainy days and thunderstorms. And quiet coffee shops. I like messy beds and over-worn pajamas. Most of all, I like the small joys that a simple life brings.
― note to self (via eauphory)