April 11, 2014
April 07, 2014
I know what wind tastes like,
and I’m not scared anymore.
I was the fallen down tree
and the kicked in window,
but this time around,
I’m the chimes with a song to sing.
Everything was so quiet back
when I was convinced everyone hated the sound
of my voice,
but I have learned since that I am not
here to make music for anyone other than myself.
If you came here to tell me
you don’t love me like you did yesterday,
then I’m still not sorry.
That was last week’s poem, baby.
It’s your fault for never showing up on time.
I only know how to say my own name,
and for the first time in years,
it isn’t standing next to a full moon
with an ocean chasing it.
it is standing alone,
I am the least scared I have been in my entire life.
— Y.Z, forgiving the broken dollhouse (via rustyvoices)
April 06, 2014
Find meaning. Distinguish melancholy from sadness. Go out for a walk. It doesn’t have to be a romantic walk in the park, spring at its most spectacular moment, flowers and smells and outstanding poetical imagery smoothly transferring you into another world. It doesn’t have to be a walk during which you’ll have multiple life epiphanies and discover meanings no other brain ever managed to encounter. Do not be afraid of spending quality time by yourself. Find meaning or don’t find meaning but “steal” some time and give it freely and exclusively to your own self. Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be.
April 06, 2014
April 05, 2014
March 31, 2014
From my adventures in Moab last week.
February 14, 2014
Let me tell you about what’s going to happen, kid. You’re going to meet a girl - or a boy, or whatever your heart decides to throw itself at. Let’s just say that she’s a girl and she looks like the way grass smells right after it’s cut. You’re going to meet a girl and you’re going to start sleepwalking through life. You should be scared now, kid, because you won’t be scared while it’s happening. That’s the thing about falling - it feels weightless until you hit the ground. I’m not telling you not to fall in love with this girl, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying that you will and she’s going to make you go crazy. When you look at her, your brain will pick up the static that no radio station can reach; you will be able to hear the hum of the blood racing through your veins, desperate to touch her, desperate to reach her. But you’ll want to do that without laying a single finger on her. You will see how she stares upwards in her lightless room as if the answers to the questions neither of you will ask were scrawled across her ceiling. And maybe they are. But you won’t take a single second away from gazing at her to look. Love is blinding, kid. Be prepared to walk across the street with your eyes shut tight, because that’s the type of risk you’re letting yourself wander into when you fall in love with this girl. Love always seems like a good idea at the time. When you were six, somebody asked you what you wanted to grow up to be and you said “married”. Now you’re ten, maybe even twenty years older, and you’re still doodling your initials together on the last page of your spiral three-ring notebook. Love makes you childish. Whatever you thought of yourself will be thrown out the window like boomerangs, ready to come back and slit your throat when you least expect it. Maybe that’s what I know of love. I know love always comes back to punch you in the jaw when you aren’t looking. But let me tell you, kid. You’re going to meet this girl and you are going to fall so far in love with this girl that you will be in a different timezone. You are going to meet this girl and give her the power to ruin your life. Be scared, kid. Be terrified, or get the hell out while you still can.
— Remember This? (k.p.k)
February 13, 2014
Must, bid the Morn awake!
Sad Winter now declines,
Each bird doth choose a mate;
This day’s Saint Valentine’s.
For that good bishop’s sake
Get up and let us see
What beauty it shall be
That Fortune us assigns.
— Michael Drayton
January 23, 2014
'That’s the problem with drinking,' I thought, as I poured myself a drink. 'If something bad happens, you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens, you drink in order to celebrate; and if nothing happens, you drink to make something happen.'
January 19, 2014
The man in black smiled. “Shall we tell the truth then, you and I? No more lies?”
"I thought we had been."
But the man in black persisted as if Roland hadn’t spoken. “Shall there be truth between us, as two men? Not as friends, but as equals? There is an offer you will get rarely, Roland. Only equals speak the truth, that’s my thought on’t. Friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of regard. How tiresome!”
― Stephen King, The Gunslinger