“Abandonment Does Not Hurt Me. It Is The Beauty Of Memories That Ache My Heart.”

“My capital of silk, you are so soft, but its hard, this heart, this art, this dark…to understand…but if you go the land…of the thousand dances…we might just have a million and one chances.”

—

“i like every person i meet. for like 17 days. after that either they expect too much or give too little. expectations and expectations and some more. it’s not like they like me indefinitely. shall i put in the effort and emotion to get to know them beyond their superficial layers and see the love and the hurt and the humanity in them when they are just going to stop caring about my existence perhaps at day 67 or 172? Shall i pacify the devil inside them when it will laugh at my attempts when they walk away at day 213? shall i? or shall i just shut up and go to sleep.”

—

"Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!"

-Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

I dream of...

I dream of the empty tunnels within the earth,

where once worms lived but now only their corpses lay in the poisoned dirt. 

I dream that the sick earth gives away beneath our feet, that mankind slips down passing our equally sickened history as we go. 

I dream there are trees forever preserved in plastic, bones of fish that twist in deformation, the hornless rhinos mouths are still wide in pain and in their blank eye sockets remains fear, small bones lay next to big ones. 

 Finally, we reach our ancestors alongside the mammoths they slew,

 the only genuinely recognizable corpses. 

I dream that we never hit the end, our bodies fall upwards as we pass our mistakes, our triumphs are few and far between. 

Then I wake up. 

I stand on the dirt that I dreamt of, waiting for the human race’s sins to pull me down. 

I feel nothing but the worms digging beneath my feet, I do not feel the waxy plastic or the sharp bones of fish,

but it is then I realize I’m still dreaming. 

03.02.2018

The rain, to make less differences among the ones I love.

white sand, waves splashing, wind blowing

for a moment i got lost in the ocean’s ethereal beauty and i envied the moon for being able to see it everyday, i lingered in that state of serenity as the moon vowed its love for the ocean wishing i could do the same to you but i knew better than to break my own fragile heart like that as unfortunately the feelings aren’t reciprocal

— my heart

*Enters a bookstore*

me to myself: be calm

Sandra Cisneros, In an Interview with Krista Tippett