good night & good luck

rc. 24. toronto. I just gotta get out of my head a bit. out of the negative, out of the pessimist. posture of doubt where everything's relative and everyone is my nemesis.

[quotemadness]

I, too, remember that feeling. You are caught between all that was and all that must be. You feel lost.

Haruki Murakami (via quotemadness)

[kavitiez]

Why do you deny yourself heaven? Why do you consider yourself undeserving? Why are you afraid of love? You think it’s not possible for someone like you. But you are the love of my life. You are the love of my life. You are the love of my life.

Lemonade. “Redemption” by Warsan Shire (via 199h12m)

[cidham]

I know that societies often have killed the people who have helped to change those societies. And if I can die having brought any light, having exposed any meaningful truth that will help to destroy the racist cancer that is malignant in the body of America—then, all of the credit is due to Allah. Only the mistakes have been mine.

The final sentences of The Autobiography of Malcolm X (via mahdic)

[litverve]

Cheers for spring; for life; for a growing soul.

Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath (via litverve)

[tanya-nicole]

When I love, I love: wholly, thoroughly, completely, drowning in everything. Every glance can be a conversation, eyes just playing and saying what needs to be said. Silence is loud, and the air becomes heavy. I want you. I want all of you.

Warsan Shire (via tanya-nicole)

[therisingfog]

I wish I was only as cruel as the first time I noticed I was cruel

Kaveh Akbar (via therisingfog)

[finita--la--commedia]

Somewhere between “I love you” and “but” is mankind, a giant loneliness strolling through an even greater loneliness.

Negar Emrani, from “Somewhere Between the World and the Mirror”, translated by Kaveh Akbar (via finita--la--commedia)

[mysharona1987]

When someone tells you that you’re emotional, thank them. Thank them for recognizing the part in you that recognizes God.

Key Ballah, Preparing My Daughter For Rain: Notes on how to Heal and Survive (via mysharona1987)

[kushandwizdom]

the last person i had left to forgive was myself.

Warsan Shire (via kushandwizdom)

[jungkooksan]

[thanafoolishwit]

he told me quite frankly one day as we sat out by a setting sun that i was a disappointment. a complete, colossal, catastrophic disappointment. it caught me off guard at first, the urgency in which he spoke. completely serious in his approach. i glanced at him sideways, attempting to decipher whether his eyes had that silly gleam that i had come to love. there was none. just disappointment. it was all i could do not to roll down that hill in laughter. not to clutch my sides and allow for the wave of relief that swelled from the pit of my stomach to swallow me whole. "it took you this long, huh?" i asked him plainly, turning to face the sun once more. this angered him. my laughter. my nonchalance. he expected grief, this much i could tell. sadness. tears. he expected something more than what i gave him. he always expected something more than what i could give. "none of this means anything to you," he said, his voice rising an octave higher, unsteadiness evident in his tone and his hands flailing about his face as though he were trying to paint this picture of me that could fulfill his desire. it was all i could do not to cry. raucous laughter and sad smiles. i stood, angry that i would not be able to watch the sun set one last time above the hills we had wandered for so long. a path he set out knowing well what was to come. he never did appreciate the sunsets, the idea that days are born and die with pinks and oranges in the sky. i left him sitting by himself, just as he knew i would. what else could i possibly do? i was a disappointment. but that's quite alright, for so was he. 

[lifeinpoetry]

I am a threat. And full of grief even. In my joy.

Kaveh Akbar, from “Pilgrim Bell,” published in The Nation (via lifeinpoetry)

[thelovejournals]

i need someone who knows how to stay.

Warsan Shire (via thelovejournals)

[motherground]

En Route to Bangladesh, Another Crisis of Faith

We pass over heavy shadows  of large clouds pinned to traincars

lined up like unused blocks  of colored chalk—red then green,

blue then orange—until we are  propelled higher, and the trains

are swallowed by these jagged  strictures of land that are no longer

sand nor rock nor water, but a child's  drawing instead—until the distant ocean

is the only fabric that fills this punched- out plastic hole of a window—that is

the blue that falls over everything, that is  everything—blue on blue on blue—like the one

strip of light left always on the airplane ceiling  that the pale, plastic shades cannot shut away—

until that narrow vein of light is the only  belief left, a cream-thick ribbon across our eyes—

– tarfia faizullah

[keywrites]

The writer’s greed is appalling. He wants, or seems to want, everything and practically everybody, in another sense, and at the same time, he needs no one at all.

James Baldwin (via keywrites)

[buttonpoetry]

I do not know what to throw away when nothing belongs to me.

Tariq Luthun - “SEED” (via buttonpoetry)

[merulae]

Platonic love is vital, essential, and perhaps the one thing left in this wretched landscape that could save us all for a little bit longer than we deserve. I love my friends even when I don’t tell them enough. I have crawled from the wreckage of enough heartbreak to know who will still be standing when I emerge and who won’t, and I hold those still standing close to me.

Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib, “Carly Rae Jepsen and the Kingdom of Desire” in MTV (via merulae)