♡ confessions of a supergirl wannabe ♡ @travieler - Tumblr Blog

Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.

Sigmund Freud (via fyp-psychology)

“If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery–isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.”

Charles Bukoswki

“There’s nothing to mourn about death any more than there is to mourn about the growing of a flower. What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don’t live up until their death. They don’t honor their own lives, they piss on their lives. They shit them away. Dumb fuckers. They concentrate too much on fucking, movies, money, family, fucking. Their minds are full of cotton. They swallow God without thinking, they swallow country without thinking. Soon they forget how to think, they let others think for them. Their brains are stuffed with cotton. They look ugly, they talk ugly, they walk ugly. Play them the great music of the centuries and they can’t hear it. Most people’s deaths are a sham. There’s nothing left to die.”

Charles Bukowski

30 dogs, 20 men on 20 horses and one fox and look here, they write, you are a dupe for the state, the church, you are in the ego-dream, read your history, study the monetary system, note that the racial war is 23,000 years old. well, I remember 20 years ago, sitting with an old Jewish tailor, his nose in the lamplight like a cannon sighted on the enemy; and there was an Italian pharmacist who lived in an expensive apartment in the best part of town; we plotted to overthrow a tottering dynasty, the tailor sewing buttons on a vest, the Italian poking his cigar in my eye, lighting me up, a tottering dynasty myself, always drunk as possible, well-read, starving, depressed, but actually a good young piece of ass would have solved all my rancor, but I didn’t know this; I listened to my Italian and my Jew and I went out down dark alleys smoking borrowed cigarettes and watching the backs of houses come down in flames, but somewhere we missed: we were not men enough, large or small enough, or we only wanted to talk or we were bored, so the anarchy fell through, and the Jew died and the Italian grew angry because I stayed with his wife when he went down to the pharmacy; he did not care to have his personal government overthrown, and she overthrew easy, and I had some guilt: the children were asleep in the other bedroom but later I won $200 in a crap game and took a bus to New Orleans and I stood on the corner listening to the music coming from bars and then I went inside to the bars, and I sat there thinking about the dead Jew, how all he did was sew on buttons and talk, and how he gave way although he was stronger than any of us he gave way because his bladder would not go on, and maybe that saved Wall Street and Manhattan and the Church and Central Park West and Rome and the Left Bank, but the pharmacist’s wife, she was nice, she was tired of bombs under the pillow and hissing the Pope, and she had a very nice figure, very good legs, but I guess she felt as I: that the weakness was not Government but Man, one at a time, that men were never as strong as their ideas and that ideas were governments turned into men; and so it began on a couch with a spilled martini and it ended in the bedroom: desire, revolution, nonsense ended, and the shades rattled in the wind, rattled like sabers, cracked like cannon, and 30 dogs, 20 men on 20 horses chased one fox across the fields under the sun, and I got out of bed and yawned and scratched my belly and knew that soon very soon I would have to get very drunk again.

Charles Bukowski

wordsnquotes

Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don’t learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us. Cynics always say no. But saying “yes” begins things. Saying “yes” is how things grow. Saying “yes” leads to knowledge. “Yes” is for young people. So for as long as you have the strength to, say “yes’.

Stephen Colbert (via wordsnquotes)

thequotejournals

I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible. Because one day, I might get hit by a bus. Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands. But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate. And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care. We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans. We never know when the bus is coming.

Rachel C. Lewis, Tell The People You Love That You Love Them. (via thequotejournals)

findingwordsforthoughts

i don’t think we need to know someone loves us, i think we need to know they love us enough - - enough to stay when it gets tough; - enough to sit with us in the er, at the doctor’s office, in bed at night when air in our lungs feels like fire and breathing is the world’s most difficult challenge; - enough to watch us sleep, and eat, and work and just exist, because our very existence is a form of magic and they want to see our being unfold, a painting painting itself, even on days when the artist is not present; - enough to listen to the stories we’ve already told and laugh at the same jokes, enough to tell us they love us - over and over again, because words do not become worn out if you speak them right; - enough to hold our hand when it is sweaty and look at rashes on our skin, enough to accept the not-pretty because they see so much fucking beauty surrounding it; - enough to not hurt us, to choose us some days and other days to pretend they have, pretend well and lie well and sometimes dishonesty is a greatest kindness you can give to a human being, - enough, - enough for us to feel safe and loved, and the thing is - enough is different for everyone, for some people it takes an ocean, vastness to be immersed into, for others it takes a river - direction and current and a sense of being taken away, and for a few, a few hiding in plain sight, it takes rain - some days we need a drizzle, others a shower that soaks the ground, and sometimes we need drought - to become again desert, sand and sun and scorched ground, to go back to the earth we came from, to breathe in air that feels like fire and exhale flames.

marina v., gurf’a (the amount of water that can be held in one hand). (via findingwordsforthoughts)

#parakayb pinoyliterature

They will say I smoked cigarettes and marijuana, cursed hoarse as a crow in all my languages, and loved morphine and Demerol and tequila and pulque, women and men. I will shrug my illusion of shoulders and answer that I am a water woman, not a vessel, not something you can sail or charter. I am instead the tributary, the river, the fluid source, and the sea itself. I am all her rainy implications. And what do you, with your rusted compass, know of love?

Frida Kahlo

I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought, there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there as you read this and know that yes, it’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.

anonymous

melindacarolinee

“She’s the best thing to ever happen to me. She is one of most kind, sweet people I’ve ever met and she deserves the world.” “Then why did you leave her man?” He’s silent for a moment as he looks out the window. “Because I can’t give her those things, I’m a mess. She deserves better than me.” “You don’t get to make that decision for her.”

(via melindacarolinee)

theliteraryjournals

Knowing can be a curse on a person’s life. I’d traded in a pack of lies for a pack of truth, and I didn’t know which one was heavier. Which one took the most strength to carry around? It was a ridiculous question, though, because once you know the truth, you can’t ever go back and pick up your suitcase of lies. Heavier or not, the truth is yours now.

Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees (via theliteraryjournals)

teenagecrush

Everybody deserves someone who makes them look forward to tomorrow.

(via psych-facts)

wnq-writers

In a world where everyone wears a mask, it’s a privilege to see a soul.

fleura-belle (via psych-facts)

naturaekos

I don’t really want to become normal, average, standard. I want merely to gain in strength, in the courage to live out my life more fully, enjoy more, experience more. I want to develop even more original and more unconventional traits.

Anaïs Nin (via naturaekos)