Adi's Board

inspo & stuff if you do not wish to have your muse / yourself tagged, lmk and I'll remove them accordingly.

[cowboyhudsons]

[adicollects]

@mscarleighaortiz

[sircarolyn]

roll up, roll up one and all to the uquiz, and let me describe you with one adjective!

[heartshop]

I am a ghoul because I’ve gone on for too long, been revived too many times.

Alice Notley, Songs and Stories of the Ghouls

[glowstickhaloboy]

i made a uquiz where i designate you “____ to lovers” pls validate me by reblogging & tagging with what u get

[adicollects]

Not marble nor the gilded monuments Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme, But you shall shine more bright in these contents Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time. When wasteful war shall statues overturn, And broils root out the work of masonry, Nor Mars his sword nor war’s quick fire shall burn The living record of your memory. ’Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room Even in the eyes of all posterity That wear this world out to the ending doom.    So, till the Judgement that yourself arise,    You live in this, and dwell in lovers’ eyes.

Sonnet 55: Not marble nor the gilded monuments,  BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Translation:

I loved you, and I probably still do, And for awhile the feeling may remain. But let my love no longer trouble you, I do not wish to cause you any pain. I loved you; and the hopelessness I knew, The jealousy, the shyness - though in vain - Made up a love so tender and so true As may God grant you to be loved again.

@oldatlas

[lily-of-elysium]

“I enjoy controlled loneliness. I like wandering around the city alone. I’m not afraid of coming back to an empty flat and lying down in an empty bed. I’m afraid of having no one to miss, of having no one to love.”

— Kuba Wojewódzki (via wordsnquotes)

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

As I Was Moving Ahead Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty (Jonas Mekas, 2000)

[weltenwellen]

‘Gbenga Adeoba, from “A Short Essay on Drowning”, Exodus

[pxntmercyarchive-blog]

                                        but i look at you.                                         i look at you, and god,                                         constellations are bursting,                                         fires are dying,                                         silence is deafening,                                         the whole damn world is terrifying - - -                                         — — and im falling, god, i’m falling,                                                 i’m falling in love with you.

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved.

Mother Teresa (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

Someone can be madly in love with you and still not be ready. They can love you in a way you have never been loved and still not join you on the bridge. And whatever their reasons you must leave. Because you never ever have to inspire anyone to meet you on the bridge. You never ever have to convince someone to do the work to be ready. There is more extraordinary love, more love that you have never seen, out here in this wide and wild universe. And there is the love that will be ready.

Nayyirah Waheed (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[ashilesun]

[chris-hargreeves]

[antigonick]

How shall I hold back my soul from touching yours?

Rainer Maria Rilke, excerpt of “Love Song [Liebeslied]”, in Stories of God (translated by Katarina Peters) (via antigonick)

@oldatlas

[weusedtobegiants]

We are pain and what cures pain, both.

Rumi, from The Essential Rumi tr. Coleman Barks

[greelin]

make no mistake i love the ocean with my whole heart but deep water terrifies me so much.. what’s goin on down there? nothing i want to be a part of

[cremedelacoeur]

Words! Mere Words! How terrible they were! How clear, and vivid, and cruel! One could not escape from them. And yet what a subtle magic there was in them! They seemed to be able to give a plastic form to formless things, and to have a music of their own as sweet as that of viol or of lute. Mere words! Was there anything so real as words?