A Thought..

"We will always misconstrue the silliest things as absolutely adorable or undeniably charming whenever we have even just the slightest attraction towards another — when in fact, those words, those actions could actually mean nothing at all. And although we may know that in the back of our minds, we choose not to acknowledge it in hopes that what they really meant to do was to send some kind of subtle sign, or morse code, or a hint that maybe, just maybe this whole time they’ve been sharing the same sentiment as you and all they’ve been waiting for was for it to be secretly understood.

(This is me understanding that, hoping you too are understanding me.)"

Por Favor

How to be Smarter: Be wary of other girls that over-use the phrase “best friend.” Being someone’s best friend is a privilege that is earned over time and with care, not a phrase to throw around haphazardly.

Movie Scenes

"On nights like these I struggle with the idea of wanting to forget you, but never wanting to forget what we had. Because these memories are all I have and sometimes I just want them to play back in my mind like the movie scenes of my favorite movies that stand out, the ones where you can still remember every detail quite clearly, but all the feelings that once rushed through your body at the time it was happening now feel so distant, so faint like a dream you once had. I want the memories I have with you to feel just like that, you know? Like it never actually happened, it only felt real. Except that’s not the case and I’m still reminded of that every time I hit replay because there’s always something about looking back that tugs a little at my heartstrings, whispering, remember when this was real? You were here and he was there and it was everything you had ever believed in.

I do, I do remember.. but I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever forget."

True Love

"You’ll get over it…” It’s the clichés that cause the trouble. To lose someone you love is to alter your life for ever. You don’t get over it because ‘it” is the person you loved. The pain stops, there are new people, but the gap never loses. How could it? The particularness of someone who mattered enough to grieve over is not made anodyne by death. This hole in my heart is in the shape of you and no-one else can fit it. Why would I want them to?"

— Jeanette Winterson

I Must.

"You must write every single day of your life. You must lurk in libraries to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads. May you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world."

— Ray Bradbury

Tendencies

“Learning to let go should be learned before learning to get. Life should be touched, not strangled. You’ve got to relax, let it happen at times, and at others move forward with it.”

— Ray Bradbury

Scream4

“At the time, my life just seemed too complete, and maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves.”

— Chuck Palahniuk

LoveMe

On this day, you read something that moved you and made you realise there were no more fears to fear. No tears to cry. No head to hang in shame. That every time you thought you’d offended someone, it was all just in your head and really, they love you with all their heart and nothing will ever change that. That everyone and everything lives on inside you. That that doesn’t make any of it any less real.

That soft touches will change you and stay with you longer than hard ones.

That being alone means you’re free. That old lovers miss you and new lovers want you and the one you’re with is the one you’re meant to be with. That the tingles running down your arms are angel feathers and they whisper in your ear, constantly, if you choose to hear them. That everything you want to happen, will happen, if you decide you want it enough. That every time you think a sad thought, you can think a happy one instead.

That you control that completely.

That the people who make you laugh are more beautiful than beautiful people. That you laugh more than you cry. That crying is good for you. That the people you hate wish you would stop and you do too.

That your friends are reflections of the best parts of you. That you are more than the sum total of the things you know and how you react to them. That dancing is sometimes more important than listening to the music.

That the most embarrassing, awkward moments of your life are only remembered by you and no one else. That no one judges you when you walk into a room and all they really want to know, is if you’re judging them. That what you make and what you do with your time is more important than you’ll ever fathom and should be treated as such. That the difference between a job and art is passion. That neither defines who you are. That talking to strangers is how you make friends.

That bad days end but a smile can go around the world. That life contradicts itself, constantly. That that’s why it’s worth living.

That the difference between pain and love is time. That love is only as real as you want it to be. That if you feel good, you look good but it doesn’t always work the other way around.

That the sun will rise each day and it’s up to you each day if you match it. That nothing matters up until this point. That what you decide now, in this moment, will change the future. Forever. That rain is beautiful.

And so are you.

You Were Right....Are Right.

"
You know those people you meet and you start liking them even though you can’t really figure out why?You’ll disagree on something important with them and you think, “This is wrong, this is wrong.” They do something bad and you think, “This is wrong, this is wrong.” Your personalities don’t actually really mesh well and you think, “This is wrong, this is wrong.”

Yet, somehow you keep liking them and you compromise and you rationalize and you excuse and you defend. For some reason, often a shallow one, you keep liking them even though if you were honest with yourself you’d admit that it’s a horrible idea.

Those kinds of people make it so much sweeter when you find someone where all you can keep thinking is, “This is right, this is so very right.”

Hard Luck

"sometimes i read books. sometimes i listen to music. sometimes i write. sometimes i look at the clouds for answers. sometimes i walk around aimlessly looking around, searching for something unnoticeably beautiful to sweep me off my feet to remind me just how much beauty there is in the simplest of things in life. sometimes i wonder about you and just how much i should let go and how much i should keep within the photos of my mind. sometimes i wonder how it’s possible to love someone so much that it breaks you. sometimes i think about all of these things that have happened in my life. sometimes these are all just sunny hazed memories in my mind that i can no longer recall. like somehow i forgot how to feel and embrace things with a sense of open-mindedness. sometimes i forget that i deserve to be loved as well. sometimes i lose myself in thoughts of empty promises. “i’m trying,” is really all i can give you. but a multitude of words and stories in my mind that i can’t seem to organize and arrange are somehow making things hard for me to find my niche. because at the end of the day these are just words. empty words that don’t mean a thing to you and to the rest of the world. this is just a place i’m in. a moment within a moment. i’m not trying to down play this fire inside of me. this isn’t a plea for help or pity. i might be a little bit lost. i might be a little bit lonely. i might be a little bit confusing. i might be a little bit sentimental. i might be a little bit weird. i’m a little bit of everything. i may be alone on all of this, but at the end of the day, just like you and me, we all just want to find our place in the sun. and that’s all we ever really know for sure. these are just words after all."

Nights in Rondanthe

"Everything about him made her long for something she had never known."

— Nicholas Sparks

Did You Hear....

"I was so cynical, just inconvincible, nobody seemed worth trusting. But sure enough, just when I’d near given up, you appeared there among the destruction."

— Kate Voegele

Sweet Little Lies

"every time i've ever put myself out there, i've gottten hurt. every time. its like i meet a guy, and i think its great. and anyone else would just be thinking about how much greater its going to get. and im constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop"

full out. fear less.

"Sometimes having a fearless heart means getting that nauseous feeling in your stomach at the thought of losing something, and then pushing forward anyway knowing that one day there is a very good chance that you will be hurt...because what if you don't lose this time?"

New Territory

"Our eyelashes brushed like they would weave together by themselves, turning us into one wild thing. I say, “I think I missed you before I met you even."

— Francesca Lia Block

Perfectly Lonely

There isn’t really a name for it, but it’s the kind of thing where you can hear the sound of crickets inside of your heart, where it’s been so long, so vacant that the only footsteps you can hear in there are your own and although it’s lonely, it’s somewhat comforting too, because no one can get inside without your permission, no one can break your insides without you letting them pass through. It’s the kind the thing where you would rather take solace in yourself than ever letting that happen again.

SoftWater

i’m half in love with you, but that’s what makes this dangerous. the other half is dark and evasive, creaking with out-weighed possibilities, some thin wrists of an almost-was that we’ve already kissed goodbye. you’re good at this, the way you wade around the words. i dive right into them, let them press against my lips before they’re gone forever. we were young once and summer struck, drunk off the sea level and the humidity. sometimes i see you and remember a time when we were full and sleepless, when we were loud and pounding. it’s so easy to be overwhelmed by a feeling when it’s foreign and unused. but years later when it gets broken in, when it’s french quartered and gleaming like broken glass in your skin, it’s a lot more complex to love. to try to explain to anyone else. so you keep it in soft-spoken places where no one ever looks. you keep it to remember there are things that make you feel both lonely and alive, this soft paradox you’ve learned to keep close. and i remember a time when your words would kiss my throat, before you out grew me and the quiet things you felt for me. i see you and remember a moment suspended in some morning-lit room. falling asleep to your voice, yawning miscellaneous favorite words, folding the secrets of a forgiver into a forgetter. it’s both sad and lovely how the things we feel at nightfall are never the same by the sunrise. and i know you’re leaving when you wake up. you know i’ll walk the other way when you do. we know we’ll tangle up somewhere, look at each other like no one could ever love the other better, and then we’ll disappear. kiss the guilt off our face, bury this in the ground and pick the flowers that grow from the grave. somehow the love we felt when we were younger never fully disappears, it just disperses into a thousand different corners of strangers we chase after. looking for a feeling that’s never far but always fleeting. nostalgia isn’t what it used to be, you know. it twists and it turns and chokes, and sometimes in the right moments i start to think your words could still kiss my throat. i start thinking that i could maybe pick out all of this glass between us, all of the fragments of feelings chained between us, i could maybe see you without all of the carefully chosen words we’ve been tip-toeing around for years. and i’m looking at you trying to see the parts i keep missing, but the sun’s always in my eyes. and you don’t mind. you never mind.

Deep Dying Breathe

You have a pen? Take a memo and write this down:

Once, I was loved, supremely with every fiber of someone’s being. They just never knew how to tell me.

52Hearts

There isn’t really a name for it but it’s the kind of thing where all you need is to hear them breathing next to you in order to feel safe from the world, from yourself, from the sound of your breaking heart echoing underneath your ribs. It’s the kind of thing where nothing else seems to matter but surrendering yourself to that moment, lying inside the nook of his arm, enclosed by the warmth of his body.

Blackhawks

Nothing blows my mind more than having expectations for someone, for something. How even that in itself is expected—to have these expectations based on your relationship with someone, or even your non-relationship with someone. How liking someone automatically makes you dependent on them being a certain way or doing or saying a certain thing, regardless if they were the type of person to say or do that certain thing or be that certain way — that doesn’t matter, it never matters because in your head, it’s done, you’ve created this perfection, this image, this fantasy, if you will, of the way things are supposed to be, of the way a person is supposed to react because you feel like it’s impossible for them to be any other way—it’s just not possible, not fathomable at any extent. Because for some reason you think selfishly that what they do is suddenly all for you. And it’s not. It usually never is unless they love you, too, but even in those cases, people fail at that too. And I can only imagine a million relationships and non-relationships or those potential-to-be-the-most-amazing-relationships all come to a crashing point because of these misunderstandings, because we can’t help but expect the people we let ourselves get involved with to be some kind of invincible superhero except nobody—nobody is perfect, not even superheroes. Just because they saved us one time doesn’t mean they always will, doesn’t mean they always can, and it doesn’t mean they’ll always want to.