"How beautiful would it be to find someone who’s in love with your mind."
— (via muse)
(Source: moeyhashy, via pouvoires)
"It’s all about falling in love with yourself and sharing that love with someone who appreciates you, rather than looking for love to compensate for a self love deficit"
— Eartha Kitt (via psych-facts)
"You are loved just for being who you are, just for existing. You don’t have to do anything to earn it. Your shortcomings, your lack of self-esteem, physical perfection, or social and economic success - none of that matters. No one can take this love away from you, and it will always be here."
— Ram Dass (via psych-facts)
"The Buddhists say if you meet somebody and your heart pounds, your hands shake, your knees go weak, that’s not the one. When you meet your ‘soul mate’ you’ll feel calm. No anxiety, no agitation."
— Monica Drake, Clown Girl (via larmoyante)
"When a boy tells you he loves you
Only to become silent like a folded sheet of tissue paper
Not wanting you to decrease him into the truth
Do not crack your face into the fullest crescent moon at the tapered bottom of the darkened sky
He never meant a single word of any of it
He is just a boy, remember?
He is just another silly, sad boy,
— Edwin Bodney (button poetry slams)
“When a Boy Tells You He Loves You” (via randomflurriez)
"We looked at each other a little too long to be ‘just friends’."
— (via psych-facts)
"You just become so used to a person .
Their scent, their laughter, the way they say your name .
And it all disappears from one day to another .
Tell me how am I not supposed to care ?
When you were all I needed in life ."
— ( via withlovesn) - texts I wish I sent you #1 (via withlovesn)
"The true poet has no choice of material. The material plainly chooses him, not he it."
— J.D. Salinger (via thatkindofwoman)
(Source: nickiland, via thatkindofwoman)
So, this summer has been eventful.
Since moving out here in June I’ve survived two actually amazing internships in the fashion industry. I couldn’t be any more grateful for the experience New York City has given me so far. I also survived living in Bedstuy for a week and half with one of my greatest creative friends KB, and since have moved into my dorm at my new school FIT. I’m nervous, excited, ready, and anxious for this school year to start, but at the same time I wish I had another week to prepare. So far every things great, I couldn’t have asked for better roommates or to be in a nicer part of NYC.
Let’s see where the rest of the next few years takes me.
"I had a dream about you. We were in the gold room
where everyone finally gets what they want.
You said Tell me about your books, your visions made
of flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This is
the Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take you
there. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar
cube…We were in the gold room where everyone
finally gets what they want, so I said What do you
want, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I am
leaving you clues. I am singing now while Rome
burns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack,
my silent night, just mash your lips against me.
We are all going forward. None of us are going back.
— Richard Siken, Snow and Dirty Rain (via letters-to-nobody)
(Source: catteine, via letters-to-nobody)
"I want to get more comfortable being uncomfortable. I want to get more confident being uncertain. I don’t want to shrink back just because something isn’t easy. I want to push back, and make more room in the area between I can’t and I can."
— Kristin Armstrong (via psych-facts)
"Looking at art, we learn about ourselves. Comparing views on art, we learn about one another. Disputing it, we shape culture. Where there is no argument there can be no consequentially meaningful art. Today, what passes for debate has occluded the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual stakes of aesthetic experience, which assumes the odor of a minor private vice. How we cope with the implications will affect what, as parties to history, we become."
— “Art All Over" by Peter Schjeldahl in The New Yorker. (via greatleapsideways)
"I can’t believe I am saying this, but it would awfully nice to have someone to listen to certain music together late at night and just star gaze from the home."
— (via psych-facts)
We started talking about introverts and extroverts. The lecture was on the risk factors for developing depression. The lecturer described introverts as quiet, lonely and very reserved personalities. In her words, introverts had trouble connecting socially. And this apparently led them to develop depressive disorders. In comparison, her description of extroverts included the words sociable, bubbly and adventurous. To me this seemed to be a little sour. Somewhat offensive, even. It hurt that people were just nodding blindly, taking these notes. Row upon row of silver Macbook computers tap tapping away.
I consider myself an introvert. First of all, the label shouldn’t come with these preconceived notions of social ineptitude. I’m a functioning human being and I do know how to be sociable. It doesn’t make me defective, or at risk, if I tend to gravitate towards pockets of silence at parties. Sometimes we do want to hear what we are saying to other people. I am proud of being an introvert. It’s about how we recharge our batteries. I like spending Sundays cooking breakfast, listening to music and watching movies with friends. I absolutely love to dance, but apparently that doesn’t fit neatly into the columns. We are like paintings. We are people made of so many colours and we should never listen to someone who tells us how we have to be. We shouldn’t listen to people who say that we are wrong, because of who we are. We need to surround ourselves with people who we respect and who are kind and will grow with us.