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"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me."

- Joshua Graham  (via crisolyn-uendelig)

(Source: outdoor-anarchy)


Another’s. She will be another’s. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.


- Pablo Neruda, Tonight I Can Write (via versteur)

(Source: raspberrymilk)

"You are like the tree
whose magnificence
lies not in the length
of it’s branches,
but in all the birds who
trust those branches
to build their homes."

- Pavana पवन (via maza-dohta)

"I see you and something
Inside me changes again.
You affect me in ways
I cannot understand
Which partly explains
Why I love you. And also:
You long to be better.
To be more. You are not
Content with a life
Resting on your laurels
Or stagnating in
I sing to you that there
Is a place for us. I am not
Convincing myself tonight:
I believe. I can feel.
This is certainty. I love
You in between
The spaces of what makes
Sense and what doesn’t.
I love you in the time it takes
For your voice to reach mine
Over the phone over
Thousands of miles.
I love you in the illogical sense.
In the space between being
Content and always yearning.
I love you in the things
I don’t say to you
That I write into my poems
And the pauses
After you’ve been
Looking at me
Before you say something.
Tonight, I am doing
Just fine."

- "When you ask how I am, this is how I would like to respond" by Radha Kistler (via floatinginthethoughtstreams)

"My real self wanders elsewhere, far away, wanders on and on invisibly and has nothing to do with my life."

- Hermann Hesse (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)

(Source: moon3)

"i will tell you about selfish people. even when they know they will hurt you they walk into your life to taste you because you are the type of being they don’t want to miss out on. you are too much shine to not be felt. so when they have gotten a good look at everything you have to offer. when they have taken your skin your hair and your secrets with them. when they realize how real this is. how much of a storm you are and it hits them. that is when the cowardice sets in. that is when the person you thought they were is replaced by the sad reality of what they are. that is when they lose every fighting bone in their body and leave after saying “you will find better than me”. you will stand there naked with half of them still hidden somewhere inside you and sob. asking them why they did it. why they forced you to love them when they had no intention of loving you back and they’ll say something along the lines of “i just had to try, i had to give it a chance, it was you after all.” but that isn’t romantic. it isn’t sweet. the idea that they were so engulfed by your existence they had to risk breaking it for the sake of knowing they weren’t missing out. your existence meant that little next to their curiosity of you. that is the thing about selfish people. they gamble entire beings. entire souls to please their own. one second they are holding you like the world and the next they have belittled you to a mere picture, a moment, something of the past. one second, they swallow you up and whisper they want to spend the rest of their life with you but the moment they sense fear, they are already halfway out the door. without having the nerve to let you go with grace, as if the human heart means that little to them. and after all this. after all of the taking. the nerve. isn’t it sad and funny how people have more guts these days to undress you with their fingers than they do to pick up the phone and call. apologize. for all of the loss."

- Rupi Kaurthis is how you lose her
(via aestheticintrovert)

"I don’t want to know how you are
for the sake of trivial small talk.
I want to know what keeps you
up at night and what plagues
your head during the day.

I want to know what you are
adamant on storing away in your
closet of fear, and what you have
been brave enough to face.

I want to know who you were as
a child; what you stood for then,
what you grew to stand for now.

I want to know your wildest hopes
and dreams, especially the ones
you’re too terrified to say out loud.

I want to know the essence of you;
every inch of that fascinating mind,
because you have got to be the most
beautiful person I have ever met."

- Noor Shiraziefascinated.
(via aestheticintrovert)

When I was little I used to be really scared of thunder. I thought my parents were fearless as it never affected them. Eventually I had to give myself the pep talk, telling myself that thunder ain’t got nothing on me. Like many things as you get older in life, my fear in thunder subsided. And I understood how my parents could go about without the worry of such.

I actually do not mind thunderstorms now, they elicit an excitement in me and I enjoy watching for lighting.

These are the sounds and sights my soul aches to be.

1 month ago     0 notes     Reblog

A Taste of Unjust

On one side of the scale is my faith in the good of humankind, on the other is the malevolence of people.

My cynicism has softened. These past months have proved instances of nativity. For my hope in altruism has overlooked the malice that exists in the pretense of polished smiles and statements.

I am saddened by the true selfish intentions and the shadowed secrets.

And I am afraid the scales tips in the direction I wish not to be true.

6 months ago     0 notes     Reblog

those soothing sounds

long has it been since the sounds of peace pitter patter on the roof of a home still empty. languidly, sleep hushes over the contrast of reality and the time ticks ticks and ticks. but in a frozen fashion, everything is still, it is mum, it is a mere moment of forgotten calling to the world beyond four walls.

a ceasefire exists in the passing nostalgia. concord the sentiment of longing, the desire to love the loss now a distant dream that the slumbering heart would only know. there is a good place now, it is here in this stretch surrounded by good folks and good hopes.

forgotten is the overlooked malevolence of those who prey with a front of altruism. not all go forth in life with the best intention for others. but it is this optimism that through the end of the day, there is the betterment of self for the achievement of bettering the greater good. wished for is the humanity that wholesomely lives, that wholeheartedly understands and accepts, and that willfully unite as a whole.

what dare drifts are the promises of the future. dandling in between each delicate finger, a grasp of a new life is within reach but only with an open hand and an open mind. goodbyes to old habits are as difficult as swaying against perpetual tides. buried should not be the reminders of desensitized pain, the drowning of individuality, the countless visions of a dawning day. always what lies ahead are better days.

found in simple silences are traces of precious attachment. perhaps gone asunder but never far from what was felt. a soft calm ebbing years ahead. from the traces of tea leaves to the on-look of familiar places, the admiration of resilience and respect, the devotion of honesty and humankind. found will be the warmth from within, found will it be from another again. 

beautiful is the day after the storm. may there be as many of those days as there are the drops of soothing sounds.

6 months ago     0 notes     Reblog