caitlin kerka. 22. newjersey. graduated from High Point University, NC.

on my own trip.

instagram: CaitlinKerka

  • today is good
    it’s my moms birthday and she gets to be in Hawaii with this beautiful view. happy birthday to the greatest woman I know and to the best mom who has never given up on me even when I probably deserved it 💝🎈🎉

Typewriter Series #882 by Tyler Knott Gregson
*Pre-Order my book, Chasers of the Light, and donate $2 to @TWLOHA and get a free book plate signed by me :)  Click the link in my bio, or go here:*
Text for Tired Eyes:
Listen, because we never know how much time we have and wenever, not ever, are in control of when the lights will go outand we’ll be opening our eyes to a new light again.  Listen:Never be afraid to be proud of yourself.  You are made of magicand you share dust and light with the stars that shine above you.  Pleasepromise me that you won’t dim your glow because it hurtssomeone elses eyes.  Cry.  Really cry.  They will try to show youand tell you and convince you that men don’t cry, that they bite their lip from the inside and swallow the blood with all the tearsthey are too timid to let fall. They will say that men are the shouldersand are the rock that stands in the current.  Be the water insteadfor one day that rock will be sand and it will have been youand only you that washed it away.  Laugh.  Truly laugh.  Let life and all of its folly steal the breath from your bodyand replace it with the staccato melody of giggles and guffaws;the laughter that comes without fair warning and continues withoutapology.  Never be afraid to follow your heart.  Take all you have and risk ittruly risk it for where your crazy heart decides to take you.  Do not ever think you, exactly you, are not capable of chasing your dreams and do not ever think that you, exactly you, are not worth being chased.It’s going to hurt, more than you think it will, and it’s going to healmore than you ever imagine it can.  You will be cut, scrapedand scarred from these pursuits but scars are stories and one daysomeone will come along that will pilot the ship of their fingertipsdown the random rivers of your scars.  They will absentmindedly and without knowing why, press their lips to them and feel thesmallest shock of life when skin touches skin.