this is a blog of words

Kate | London England | Blogger, Writer and Poet 

[words-and-coffee]

It wasn’t as though he’d previously been blind to the beauty of colour, but still. It felt as though his body were brimming with their intense hues, all this latent energy inside him - it was almost unbearable. He was living with a new intensity. “I used to be dark”: There were times when he wanted to express it this way. I used to be dark. I was in a dark place. The monochrome world, entirely devoid of the colours he was now experiencing, had had a calmness that was beautiful in its way, but it wasn’t somewhere he could go back to. It seemed the happiness that enabled him to feel that quiet peace was now lost to him forever. And yet he found himself unable to think of this as a loss. All of his energy was taken up in trying to cope with the excitement, the heightened awareness of living in the present moment.

Han Kang, The Vegetarian

(via

words-and-coffee

)

[quotemadness]

Perfectionism is a self destructive and addictive belief system that fuels this primary thought: If I look perfect, and do everything perfectly, I can avoid or minimize the painful feelings of shame, judgment, and blame.

Brené Brown

[perfectquote]

It’s life that matters, nothing but life – the process of discovering, the everlasting and perpetual process, not the discovery itself, at all.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Idiot (via perfectquote)

[onlinecounsellingcollege]

Look at you. You’re young. And you’re scared. Why are you so scared? Stop caring what other people think. Wear what you want. Say what you want. Listen to the music you want to listen to. Live now. Do it now. Take risks. Tell secrets. This life is yours.

Louise Flory (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[nightlyquotes]

Ain’t no time to hate, barely time to wait.

Grateful Dead, Uncle John’s Band (via nightlyquotes)

[kateelizabethwritings]

I am the king of short phrases, because my good intentions never make it that far. My hand is at the seam, strained. I’ll never make it that far. I am begging for mercy at the hands of myself. I am drowning in my own ink, reaching for the rim of the well. Tilt me over onto a canvas and let my thoughts transpose. So all that’s needed is a bridge of light, where visions and thoughts are the passer bys. Crossing the t’s and dotting the i's in the space between connection and sight. I want my words to act as the weather, sealing gaps in the dialogues between a man and another. While you wish to live forever, I only wish to forever live in the kinds of words written to live by. Save this shell of a man before his fractures bring him down. Hold his words captive as he held the pulse within his fist. (Gripping throats but killing cotton, serves as management for the most uncommon.) Buried underneath a burden, leaking thoughts out onto the pavement. Pull me from the wreckage and follow the scars painted on my body to the heart of a mouth sewn shut. Hid behind these walls lay the lion, like trapped thoughts in a cage. For this is an emergency, please operate and remove my stories.

[sweetpeagrave-deactivated202104]

From British Wild Flowers, 1876

[nicethingsinuglyhandwriting]

It is June. I am tired of being brave // Anne Sexton.

[nicethingsinuglyhandwriting]

Obligatory annual reblog.

[journalinbloom-blog]

you still have a lot left to live for

[meineluft]

I love it when I see old couples together, because it makes me believe that true love does exist.

Unknown (via meineluft)

[kateelizabethwritings]

I don't belong in the world That's what it is Something separates me from other people Everywhere I turn There's something blocking my escape

[songs-and-meanings]

I don’t think I can take this bed getting any colder, come over, come over, come over.

Kenny Chesney (via songs-and-meanings)

[quotemadness]

I lived in books more than I lived anywhere else.

Neil Gaiman (via quotemadness)

[quotemadness]

I have no talent. I write poems for myself, to think things through, that’s all.

Anna Kamienska (via quotemadness)

[alexenglish]

ay can we stop pretending like ADHD isn’t a Real Mental Health Issue and is Easy To Deal With? it’s a hugely detrimental disorder that effects performance in school and at work, and personal relationships on multiple levels. with ADHD it’s difficult to implement the routines necessary for day to day functioning. maybe educate yourself before criticizing a disorder that’s very fucking hard to live with. 

[transmanterry-blog]

for those unaware, I’ve been told by several friends they didn’t know this, adhd can effect basic survival rituals. Adhd makes sleep nearly impossible most of the time, makes cooking a too long task which c a n easily lead to a microwave diet, it makes basic reading and comprehension without interest physically exhausting (FYI that means us adults with adhd are fucked) and can even cause major, drastic mood swings as our energy plummets and skyrockets sometimes even resulting in straight up manic episodes. ADHD & ADD are very serious and real stop acting like they’re not a big deal.

[adhighdefinition]

T H I S ! ADHD is not a disorder that only occurs in childhood. Many people continue to have some or all symptoms for the rest of their lives. It’s caused by genetics/a chemical imbalance in the brain which doesn’t just disappear as soon as you reach adulthood. A lot of people will always have to struggle with it.

Please remember that.

[quotemadness]

The hours between 12am and 6am have a funny habit of making you feel like you’re either on top of the world, or under it.

Beau Taplin (via quotemadness)

[mesogeios]

When I suddenly see myself in the depths of the mirror, I take fright. I can scarcely believe that I have limits, that I am outlined and defined. I feel myself to be dispersed in the atmosphere, thinking inside other creatures, living inside things beyond myself. When I suddenly see myself in the mirror, I am not startled because I find myself ugly or beautiful. I discover, in fact, that I possess another quality. When I haven’t looked at myself for some time, I almost forget that I am human, I tend to forget my past, and I find myself with the same deliverance from purpose and conscience as something that is barely alive. I am also surprised to find as I gaze into the pale mirror with open eyes that there is so much in me beyond what is known, so much that remains ever silent.

Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart (via floriental)