@adin-ila - Tumblr Blog

Tell me the story / again, / of the sparrows who flew from falling Rome, / their blazed wings. / How ruin nested inside each thimbled throat / & made it sing

Ocean Vuong, from “Seventh Circle of Earth” (via anintimacy)

5000letters

I sit in front of maps and measure with my fingertips the distance between us. In this space, I tell the ocean to make itself smaller, we argue. I tell it please, I am in love, and it allows me to palm it in my hand and hold it tightly there. I wish the roads away. I grab the forests by the handful and plant them elsewhere, plant them in our backyard ten years from now. Like this, I slowly make the spaces between us smaller until I can walk across them. I take the ground by its edges and pull it until it’s gathered like a rug beneath my feet. I bundle the sky under my arms and don’t mind that the clouds are raining on my feet. I can walk the inches to your door and knock the wood and see you standing there in all your shocked silence. The question of the sky and the ground and the oceans all piled up around me. I can say ‘hello, look, it’s me, I love you, I’ve brought the entire earth for you.’

Azra.T “The World’s Gift” (via 5000letters)

theglasschild

“

This is how you lose her.

You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery store, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.

You must remember when she forgets.

You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.

She remembers when you forget. You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.

You must learn her.

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.

You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.

And, this is how you keep her.

— Junot Diaz, “This is How You Lose Her”

thegoodvybe

So, do it. Decide. Is this the life you want to live? Is this the person you want to love? Is this the best you can be? Can you be stronger? Kinder? More compassionate? Decide. Breathe in. Breathe out and decide.

Meredith Grey (via thegoodvybe)

wordsnquotes

When you’re screwing up, and nobody’s saying anything to you anymore, that means they gave up. And that’s a lesson that stuck with me my whole life. When you see yourself doing something badly, and nobody’s bothering to tell you anymore, that’s a very bad place to be.

Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture (via wordsnquotes)

quotemadness

It passes, but it does not pass away.

László Krasznahorkai (via quotemadness)

runwayandbeauty

Atmosphere at Chanel’s Métiers d’Art Show in Rome. 60′s Parisian Style meets 60′s Italian Cinema. Chanel Pre-Fall 2016.

anamorphosis-and-isolate

I have always, essentially, been waiting. Waiting to become something else, waiting to be that person I always thought I was on the verge of becoming, waiting for that life I thought I would have. In my head, I was always one step away.

Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines: Celebrating the Extraordinary Nature of Everyday Life. (via weltenwellen)

larmoyante

It was curious to think that the sky was the same for everybody. And the people under the sky were also very much the same—everywhere, all over the world, hundreds or thousands of millions of people just like this, people ignorant of one another’s existence, held apart by walls of hatred and lies, and yet almost exactly the same—people who had never learned to think but were storing up in their hearts and bellies and muscles the power that would one day overturn the world.

George Orwell, 1984 (via larmoyante)

naftifine-deactivated20140330

paletages

Pale Blog

kushandwizdom

We’re in a narcissistic generation. People who say “I love you” don’t mean “I love your soul,” but mean “I love the attention you give me.”

(via na-ji)

whisperingbones

March 4, 2013 I was unpacking when I heard you walk in. I had on light pink lipstick that I found at the bottom of a box. You put a few things on the counter and handed me my car keys. I kissed you and asked if you could help me move the bed. You said you needed to talk. I keep replaying this over and over in my mind. I don’t think I’ll be able to unpack the rest of our boxes. April 4, 2013 It’s been a month since you left. Mark says you’re not coming back. I can’t sleep. Are you awake? May 4, 2013 I finally went to the doctor like you had begged me to. You were right and yeah, I’ll be fine. June 4, 2013 I sold my engagement ring at a pawn shop today. I bought expensive lipstick and flowers. I also bought a lot of beer and a carton of cigarettes. I’ve lost a lot weight since you last saw me. My friends from high school that I haven’t seen in years hardly recognize me. It’s weird being back in this town without you. I spend most of my afternoons at the beach. I saw a sea turtle today while I was swimming. I miss eating breakfast food at midnight with you. July 4, 2013 I stumbled across the video of you in the car singing Taylor Swift. I deleted it before it played all the way through but I have to admit it made me laugh. I can’t remember how your voice sounds saying my name. I broke down and called you. Thank you for not answering. August 4, 2013 I dropped my cigarette in my lap when you drove past me today. September 4, 2013 I went on a date. He thinks Bud Light is “quality beer”. It just isn’t going to work out. October 4, 2013 It doesn’t hurt anymore to say your name. November 4, 2013 Hope you’re doing well. December 12, 2013 Thank you for setting me free. March 4, 2014 It has been a year. I heard you moved to Baltimore. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but I hope it’s that I’m happy. I hope you’ve heard from our friends that they often see me sitting in the sun, laughing with my hair in a braid, collecting seashells and running straight into the ocean with no fear.

I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but I hope it’s that I’m happy. I hope you’ve heard from our friends that they often see me sitting in the sun, laughing with my hair in a braid, collecting seashells and running straight into the ocean with no fear.

Whispering Bones by Drew Hairgrove purchase your copy here

(via whisperingbones)