The truth is
I’m terrified that it’ll be too much or not enough. What if you find yourself ankle deep and you realize I’m just a girl, drowning in all the worst parts of being 19? What if you’re 45 minutes into the drive home from Vegas and you realize you don’t want to drive anymore, that you’re tired and wish you hadn’t been so insistent on getting home that night?...
Yulia by Wolf Parade God, this video is intense.
‘‘means to be concerned about their welfare and to feel sorry for them and have compassion (mamase) for them in times of need. It also means to be accustomed to their presence and to think about them and yearn for them (ma’inaa-naa) when they are away’’ (Hollan andWellenkamp 1994:57) on the Indonesisan word for love But to “love” someone can’t possibly be this simple.
This is all I ever want to do:
fall asleep with your knees tucked into the backs of mine, fill up the pages of moleskines like empty cups, read books, sit in leaves the color of caramel, drink Moroccan mint tea, and dance.
I’ve been waiting for you.
You need to calm the heck down and stop being so damn distracting. I have a midterm due at 9:30 in the a.m. tomorrow and I’m nowhere close to being done. Why you gotta do me like that, baby? Why?
Today is the oldest you’ve ever been, and the youngest you’ll ever be again.– (via youmightfindyourself)
My foot is asleep again and I’ve wasted so much time today/lately I can barely stand myself. What’s going on, C? Where’s your head at?
charlesdigital: Deadmau5 “Everything You Are” ...
I have poor circulation. And it’s getting on my nerves. Imagine having feet that perpetually tingle and a butt that falls asleep in class more often than you do.
001: I have exactly an hour and 36 minutes to finish/turn in individual summaries and responses to 4 chapters of The Sacred Self. 002: I have completed a total of half..of one. 003: My stomach is angry at me this morning. 004: I’d probably kill a small creature to be beach side right now. 005: Too much to do, too little time. Story of my life.
I want to write these stories down, but I’m afraid they’re already falling to pieces and my biggest fear is losing them altogether to the gaping hole that took all the others.
Because there is no humility in being unable to see the beauty lost in all the parts of yourself you call mistakes in your making. I want not to feel like I am swimming in my skin—bones drowning in an ill-fitting bag. I want to know what it is to cherish the tiny hairs on my thighs and the things I call crooked lines. I want not to be ashamed of the softness that hugs me and sparks...
I’ve really gotta get started on this jazzband.
I want so badly to believe, that there is truth, that love is real And I want...– The Postal Service, “Clark Gable”
Bob: I don't want to leave
Charlotte: So don't. Stay here with me. We'll start a jazzband.
“I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn. And we are lead to those who help us most to grow, if we let them, and we help them in return.” You know you’re getting soft when lines from Wicked come to mind when you’re thinking about your life. What is going on?
Because I’m tired of living in what-if’s when the only thing you can really count on is what you know. So here’s to what I know and going with it.
I’m finding myself in places I never thought I’d be again. And it’s distracting and terrifying and utterly heart-breaking, but I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. It’s Monday the 1st. I feel like I need to start something important today. Any ideas?