I love you more than my own skin and even though you don’t love me the same way, you love me anyways, don’t you? And if you don’t, I’ll always have the hope that you do, and i’m satisfied with that. Love me a little. I adore you.

You talk of things you have never known. Things you’ve given thought over fleeying seconds. You talk of things so big to understand as if you saw them through spectacles of brilliancy, of clarity. You give in to your arrogance and you refuse to admit the mistakes of your judgment.

Love is a thing to nig to grasp, too big to ever fully understand. It is everywhere yet it is nowhere, it lasts forever, it easily is gone. Love is nothing but it is everything.

To love is to live and it is to die. There is pollution in it, there’s redemption.

Love is fire, beautiful, burning, consuming.

It kills with no humanity, it allows us to live in hope. It hurts us for the happiness of our loved ones, sometimes it is not enough.

And although it looks like I know it, i do not. It is inconstant like the moon, it makes my tides rise. I know it not and I’m not nearly arrogant enough to believe I do.

"The memory of that night shimmers in my head, gossamer and flimsy as the starlight that woved itself into the thick magic of that evening."

"For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse.

So collapse.
This is not your destruction.

This is your birth."

(via bl-ossomed)

(Source: astrasperas, via overfierce)

"Boys cry
Cigarettes do kill,
parents lie,
boats sink,
flowers die,
Life goes on,
with or without you."

sad facts that come along with existing (via bl-ossomed)

(Source: cosmicwording, via overfierce)

"I want so much that is not here and do not know
where to go."

Charles Bukowski, excerpt from “The Dogs of Egypt” (via larmoyante)

I feared his going away, thinking that I’d be forced to forget the tender moments we shared. I feared his going away because I feared that he’d take with him my memories of things that happened so long ago that I am sure it’s only me who remembers. I was afraid because I thought that with him he’d be taking my heart.

But he’s coming back. I’ve heard it everywhere except from himself. He’s coming back and everyone’s abuzz with excitement yet I find myself frozen in fear at these words. We are long over. I know that. But while he was gone I had none of his face while he looked at his new girl reminding me that I was once her. I had none of his laughs bounding off the walls, reaching my ears making me wonder what had made him laugh. I had nothing so unavoidable as him forcing me to remember.

I was silly for fearing his going away, silly for being afraid of him taking my heart because when he left I could find means to be numb and try to forget the ache. But now that he’s coming back, bringing with him the evidence of what he holds over me that I realize it’s time to remember. It’s time to remember feeling again. It’s time to feel again the pain of remembering that he used to be mine.


"Feel Again"
"and don’t forget:
time is meant to be wasted,
love fails
and death is useless."

Charles Bukowski, What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire. (via theburnthatkeepseverything)
"There’s like a million different ways to say “I love you,”
“put your seat belt on,”
“watch your step,”
“get some rest,” …you’ve just got to listen."

Unknown  (via psych-facts)

(via laughtersjournal)

"To be a happy person, one has to drop all comparison. Drop all these stupid ideas of being superior and inferior. You are neither superior nor inferior. You are simply yourself! There exists no one like you, no one with whom you can be compared. Then, suddenly, you are at home."

Osho (via cyberwave)

(Source: yogachocolatelove, via dala-lama)