Claire Keane
Xuebing Du
izzy's playlists!
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KIROKAZE
One Nice Bug Per Day
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Game of Thrones Daily
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Keni
Kiana Khansmith
YOU ARE THE REASON
Mike Driver
NASA
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@faraaaay
Love never dies of a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness, errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds. It dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings, but never of a natural death.
Anais Nin (via purplebuddhaquotes)
“So many people are shut up tight inside themselves like boxes, yet they would open up, unfolding quite wonderfully, if only you were interested in them.”
— Sylvia Plath
Some people are so addicted to their misery that they will destroy anything that gets in the way of their fix. — Bryant McGill
Every time they ask how am I the answer is always, "Restless".
I am eternally, devastatingly romantic, and I thought people would see it because ‘romantic’ doesn’t mean ‘sugary.’ It’s dark and tormented — the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can’t attain.
Catherine Breillat (via mademedance)
Blends
The kind of people you see, you talk with, you laugh with or you eat with are they the one's who they really are or are you the one with them the real you?
What does that face of yours look like that is hidden? Is it ugly? Scarred or filthy? And what is that mind that plays games all the time? Love games. Hate games. And what are those feelings within you? Feeling of nothingness. Feeling of loneliness. Feeling of betrayal. What are those dreams and thoughts that haunt you every night or what are those languages that your demons speak? What are those cliches in your head making you feel holllow and numb? Why do you look at those colours and keep staring them? Why do they fascinate you?
Maybe they are those blends of dark and light, dark and light shades that make them look beautiful.
I think so are you and the other people around you. Complete blends- of hate, love, kindness cruelty and hope.
However difficult you think you are, there is someone out there who will love you.
They will hold your hand through your anxiety. They will be there for you even on your worst, angriest days. They will allow you to grow and evolve in the way you need. And even when you make mistakes, they will take the time to understand you and forgive you.
Love is not a thing that needs to be earned by changing yourself from the person you are. You can better yourself, but never ever think you need to better yourself for anyone other than yourself. Those kind of changes never last.
This is the kind of love you deserve. This is the kind of love you need. No one is too difficult to love when they have love in their hearts to give to others. Please don’t believe whoever told you that you will never find the love you need, not even yourself. Don’t tell yourself that changing who you are will get you the love you need. Because this you, all raw, all broken is still beautiful, is incredibly wonderful to someone.
Believe in yourself. You are not too difficult to love.
And you deserve love. Just like this. Just as you are.
Nikita Gill, You Deserve Love
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It’s no use going back to yesterday because I was a different person then.
Lewis Carroll (via minuty)
I told myself I’d be braver this time. More confident. More trusting. More willing to put something at risk, to put my heart on the line. But slowly I can feel them digging their claws into my mind again: the doubts. Sense fear sending shivers down my spine, squeezing my chest with cold fingers. Instead of fighting, I find myself slipping back into old habits. They’re easy. Comfortable. They’re safe. I know how they work, how I have to act to get through. They’re always there to fall back into and welcome me with open arms. But sometimes the easy way isn’t the right one. Sometimes life is a gamble. Sometimes there is more to surviving than avoiding the path to danger. It is facing your fears, no matter how much they turn your stomach, no matter how scary the uncertain future is. It is stepping out of your comfort zone - difficult at first, but every small step gets you closer to being at peace with yourself. It is letting go of whatever makes you doubt, it’s learning to break habits that may feel safe but are nothing more than excuses to hang your head and give up. You are not your fears. You are not old patterns and your scars. You are so much more than your dark thoughts trying to take control. There are times when I forget how to be brave. When I can’t remember what it’s like not to be afraid. But I avoid old habits like the plague. I don’t let my fear take control. I don’t cower in front of anyone or anything. Not anymore.
habits / n.j. (via theprocast)
I told myself I’d be braver this time. More confident. More trusting. More willing to put something at risk, to put my heart on the line. But slowly I can feel them digging their claws into my mind again: the doubts. Sense fear sending shivers down my spine, squeezing my chest with cold fingers. Instead of fighting, I find myself slipping back into old habits. They’re easy. Comfortable. They’re safe. I know how they work, how I have to act to get through. They’re always there to fall back into and welcome me with open arms. But sometimes the easy way isn’t the right one. Sometimes life is a gamble. Sometimes there is more to surviving than avoiding the path to danger. It is facing your fears, no matter how much they turn your stomach, no matter how scary the uncertain future is. It is stepping out of your comfort zone - difficult at first, but every small step gets you closer to being at peace with yourself. It is letting go of whatever makes you doubt, it’s learning to break habits that may feel safe but are nothing more than excuses to hang your head and give up. You are not your fears. You are not old patterns and your scars. You are so much more than your dark thoughts trying to take control. There are times when I forget how to be brave. When I can’t remember what it’s like not to be afraid. But I avoid old habits like the plague. I don’t let my fear take control. I don’t cower in front of anyone or anything. Not anymore.
habits / n.j. (via theprocast)
Still Standing
For the first time in years , I’m actually thankful to be breathing .
To be here, in a safe home, with friends who care and comfort me.
To be breathing and laughing, to feel the rain against my skin, to see my sister smiling and succeeding , to be more comfortable with my identity and my existence.
Thankful that there is still kindness, defiantly shining in this dark despairing world.
I am thankful to be my mother’s child ,thankful for the realization that I don’t have to be my father’s child if I don’t want to be.
Thankful for dreams, for music, for the small children who laugh and play and hope.
Thankful for the fighters, those who fight for our rights, our freedom, our futures.
Thankful for the kind ones, the ones who wade into the despair armed with a smile and a warm embrace , with gentle hands that lift tired spirits.
Thankful for the ones whose voices are always rising for the underdogs, the meek, the unfortunate. Thankful for the ones who won’t forget the tragedies, the heartache, the miserable blows that have been dealt.
I am thankful to be standing still, despite the world. Thankful that my trials have yet to break me.
A year ago I had very little to be thankful for, and now I’m thankful for so much.
It got better, it got better, it got better.
I can breathe again, I can smile, I can feel happy again.
I have hope again, and I’m trying my best to keep it.
I wish I had a connection with someone maybe infatuation, mere likeness or love but I'm terribly afraid of my uniqueness
At times I really appreciate a different 'me' but the other times I do not. I remain quiet when everyone's laughing because I feel I've lost the capability to do so. Act normal? What's normal? I'm normal. Wait a second.. I don't know what normal you're talking about. I go through this every day. But I do know I'm normal and I dont know to make them understand that I'm normal. I want to escape and ignore all of them but I should think practically and settle myself in this society.. Write poems? Yeah, I do. Boring people do that! Oh yeahh, Hi! I'm boring but you know what I can be a fun person too.. *Everyone laughs* What to do and what not to do? I've no idea.. People are never satisfied! There were times when I wanted to give up my life. Suicide? Yeah.
I stoppped because it was easy and that would've meant that I'm a loser. Thought of my family and struggled to get back to life. Now, I've travelled miles without taking any rest and I'm tired. Very tired.
You are a work of art. Yes, you. Your personality, your talents, your skills, passions and beliefs. Your skin, your muscles, your bones, heart, and other various tissues. Your face, your smile, all the way down the depths of you inner being; you are a work of art. A masterpiece. A beautiful picture that not a single soul could ever replicate.
Nicole Addison @thepowerwithin (via thepowerwithin)
i have almost memorized the twists and turns of hangers hooked so neatly, counting them back and forth, trying to make out the colors of dresses and shirts and skirts. there wasn’t much to do here at first. i’ve tried for so long to see the world beyond the closed hinges, the breath of fresh air, hues other than the usual grey undertones, a space so far and wide i can easily stretch without bumping into stray nails or being splintered by wood or enduring numbness in my legs. but i heard them outside, their whispers of treachery, seemingly stabbing my back and spitting on my identity, their words of hate and spite adding chains and locks to the already closed door, making me to seek shelter among the jungle of jackets and sweaters. so i’ve decided to stay a little longer, carving poetry onto the hard wood, fixing and matching clothes inside, making my own portal to fictitious lions, having adventures in between thoughts, until the time the locks break, the doors fall off, and the voices shush.
stuck and staying in closets to Narnia (via voicelessinthevoid)
Things were going great but then he confessed.
At 4 am, her eyes opened every object was blur can't focus on anything she rubbed her eyes with cold hands clear things got except her dark mind. Stomach craved for black coffee but her body was too weak and almost lost the mobility. Everything seemed odd and she herself was flawed What now? She thought. "Go back to sleep where there's a fantasy (dream)" Demons suggested.
