Soft memories and crushing nostalgia

Vancouver. 23.

[sustancy]

[annieskywalker]

GRATITUDE AFFIRMATIONS

🕊 I am grateful for all the opportunities presented to me

🕊 I am grateful for always learning and growing

🕊 The universe continues to provide for me despite any fears and doubts

🕊 I am loved

[rainekeiko]

the vision and action must go hand in hand.

[flowerytale]

Isabel Allende ― The House of the Spirits

[lsseymiyake]

restart, and heal

[ardcy]

[heavensghost]

[hallucin8]

I have SO much love in my dumb stupid bitch ass body

[hplyrikz]

“I hope that someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. They don’t pull away. They don’t look at your face. They don’t try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms, without an ounce of selfishness in it.”

— Jenna, Waitress (via hplyrikz)

Clear your mind here

(via hplyrikz)

[bubbly]

[jackemus]

[coldely-deactivated20210320]

[somepiecesofmyheartandsoul-deac]

““What do you fear the most?” “To have no place in this world,” he answered, “to be forgotten.” “What about you?” He asked as he turned to her. “Almost similar.” She smiled a little. He waited patiently as she tried to find the right words to speak out her thoughts. “To have no place in your heart,” she said eventually, “And to be forgotten by you.””

— Lukas W. // Forgotten Words #264 // Fear (via somepiecesofmyheartandsoul)

[ardcy]

Nooooooooooo

[petalier]

@WeHeartI /entry/180607562

[kissedbythevoid]

[poeticallyemm]

Repressed beats leave scar tissue. Strangers’ insides bleed and I shatter: over, over. There is ache and nothing else. Strange, not unpleasant. Not concrete, time open and hollow.

You cracked eggshell armour, snapped hands that could not hold on the time they were supposed to. (It was guilt and love and guilt of love).

I am not worth explanation. I crack mirrors and bleed from my reflection. Seven years doubles, triples, expands from my chest and into yours. I fall

into sadness, call it peace. I love nothing, something, everything. I stay awake and wait for this, cry myself to life, pretend to care

for something else, pretend the feeling will grow a different face, that I’ll name a bus stop, lecture hall after the feeling without the feeling morphing

back to this, again. Nothing new, nothing close enough to hurricanes or kindness or this fear I do not mind, do not run from, as if I can’t see the danger of this: myself, my own heart, swept away only to lie  about the tide. Calm, content with this lack  of light, pretending the moon hasn’t pulled me all this time. – poeticallyordinary

[love]

“you are the smell before rain / you are the blood in my veins”

The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot - Brand New