“That ‘sometimes you have to let who you love go’ or ‘if you love someone let it free and if it comes back it was yours and if it doesn’t it never was’ is completely and utterly idiotic. If you love someone, never let them go. Period. Hold on to them as tight as you can and do all in your power to prove to them that they should stick around. Letting them go to see if they really love you is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”—If you really love someone you don’t play games with them. If you do and you let them go, you are basically doing them a favor, douche!
“I was gonna be a guitar hero, she was gonna design my stage clothes. I ended up producing, she ended up alone— all the time. She wanted the house, I wanted the freedom. Sure as fuck got it. Now I drink what I want, I snort what I want, I fuck what I want. But all I want is her.”—Californication
“I don’t think I got the memo on boobs. I mean, yes, I like them as much as the next guy, but there is no way that breasts are gonna make me tingle and want to glue my hand to them like an ass does. You can be born with great breasts, but having a nice ass means something.”—
“You got a point dawg, I don’t hang out with Mexicans. Mexicans got 20,000 dollar stereos, lots of guns, and everytime I go into a liquor store with one, I’m afraid we gonna rob the place. Mexicans are scary motherfuckers.”—(Generation Kill) I on the contrary, do like hanging out with Mexicans.
“I don’t know if she’s been swept off her feet. I don’t know what her best date was or what her worse date should of been. I don’t know if she is as allergic to the words “soul mate” as I am. I Just know that the later it gets, the more I want to whisper to her. And these whispers would not be benign.”—Atchungbaby Best blog ever. My absolute favorite.
“We’re swaying in subconscious subways so insane. But your thoughts still bring flowers for my brain. And I still pull my hands past your ribcage hoping my movements might find their place at your side, for as long as you’d like.”—Dear and the Headlights
Here is something: I found the right thing but I keep forgetting it. So open up to me. I won't be bad for you. I understand, I promise I do. And I will give myself to you, one hundred per-cent. Don't you see? This could be the thing you've been needing.
“There was a cadence to our thoughts that has left my feelings for you ineffable. I do not repeat them. Left ensconced are those great months that ended and the silence of things left unsaid that followed.”—
Sometimes. Well most of the time. I wish I could just up and leave and never look back. Leave everyone I know (excluding my fam) and starting a new. New everything, job, school, friends, town, you name it. Reinvent myself. No one to ask me questions, to answer to, to be responsible for. No one to nag to me about what I am doing, and what I am not doing. No one to apologize for, no one to feel sorry for me. No one to dissapoint, no one to try not to dissapoint, no one to pretend to. I love my friends very much. But sometimes I just wish I was anonymous. In a beach somewhere, just me. Breathing. Laying there on the sand. Feeling nothing bad, or even if I did, knowing that its contained within myself. All quiet, leaving me to my problems, and my things. Starting anew, saying “Hi my name is _____ i’m new here.” Or better yet. Not talking at all. June 14, 2005
“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life… You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love!”—
“I love tumblr. But all these posts about love and longing and sadness and love, well, they just make me sad. I am already in love, heartbroken, longing, sad and melancholy. The inspirational ones help sure, but shit, I wouldn’t be where I am if I was a optimist.”—
“I’m all out of midnight phone calls and flowers sent to your door. I’m out of throwing letters off fire escapes and drawing a cathedral in the sand. I’m out of spray-painting your name on freeway overpasses. I’m low on cute names given between blankets and 9am. I’ve got no dramatic displays of public affection left. And now everyone else I ever love is going to think me boring. Because I used it all up on you.”—
“When people walk away from you, let them walk. Don’t try to talk another person into staying with you, loving you, calling you, caring for you, coming to see you, or staying attached to you. When people walk away, let them walk. Your destiny isn’t tied to anybody that left”—(via lookitissasha) (via amorinha) I’ve got to always remember this. (via marjchun)
My grandma taught me books and passed down her love towards them. I had no choice, it was her inheritance. My grandma told me that with books I would never be alone.
She taught me to take care of my eyes, making of them the most precious place, the most nitid. She explained that if my hearing were to one day fail, it wouldn’t be too grave, I would lose little, all that was worth listening to had been written and my eyes would rescue them. She told me that if one day I were to lose my voice, it would not be the end. I would receive external sound without ever giving it back and no one would miss it, not even I. Words were there to be executed: the conceived ones by my ears: the ones I wanted to invent by my hands. In the end, without ever mentioning other senses like smell or taste, my grandma told me to ingore deafness and muteness if they ever befell me, the only total lack was blindness.
That I should take care of my eyes. Only with them I could read. Only they would save me from loneliness.