sirdraken

Latest Posts by sirdraken

“Anybody can look at you. It’s quite rare to find someone who sees the same world you see.”

— John Green, Turtles All the Way Down

“You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got. And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever. And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives. And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly. Amen.”

— Aaron Freeman “You Want A Physicist To Speak at your Funeral” (via focloir)

As I kid, I wanted to be a savior, trailblazer, the prophecy child. I wanted a big life, with ups and ups like the breasts of mountains and lows like the depths of valleys full of forgotten debris. I was convinced the great flood was knocking at my door, beckoning me to become someone bigger. A juvenile fantasy, a hazy dream.

I'm 19 now. It's not a grand big life, I'm no hero. I love my friends and sunday mornings. I like cats and strawberries. No flood, no rapture, no calamity- just quiet weekdays and sleepy weekends. But oh my days, I am full, finally.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

This is why it hurts the way it hurts. You have too many words in your head. There are too many ways to describe the way you feel. You will never have the luxury of a dull ache. You must suffer through the intricacy of feeling too much.

- Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You and Only You

Albert Camus, The Misunderstanding (1943)

{Marya Hornbacher from Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia//stay away but come closer via Altusboy on Tumblr}

“And that was what destroyed you in the end: the longing for something you could never have.”

— Leigh Bardugo, Crooked Kingdom

i don't pay attention to the world ending. it has ended for me many times and began again in the morning.

― Nayyirah Waheed, Salt

“All my life, I’ve felt like I belong somewhere that only exits in the depths of my mind – impossible for others to discover.”

— Quote from my journal, 10 July 2017

it's a different kind of intimacy when you can tell that someone isn't feeling well while they're doing everything to hide their sadness. they become so familiar, you know their inside so well that their pain is seen by you, and most importantly safe with you

I bleed through words if not for poetry I would’ve bled my wrists dry long ago but bleeding through my words has helped me greatly.

: )

“Sometimes I wonder why words can’t actually make us bleed.”

— Swati Avasthi

A Tribute to the Unspoken, Just Words

you and i, we share the same color palette.

It's my 3 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

"Who's Sisyphus?" she asks. You begin to respond: "it's this myth about a guy being punished in the underworld where he has to-"

Her phone rings.

"One second," she says. A few minutes later, she prompts you to continue: "I'm sorry, I cut you off."

You start again. "Sisyphus is a-"

Her phone rings again. "Sorry, one sec."

Søren Kierkegaard, Diaries 1813-1855

- April 11, 1922

- The diaries of Franz Kafka, 1914-1923

[ID: "Eternal youth is impossible; even if there were no other obstacle, introspection would make it impossible." End ID]

“I wanna hug you and cry.”

—

unstoppable force (wanting to be the kindest version of myself) vs immovable object (all the anger and hatred I have inside myself)

But I wish you did— care.

When Taylor Swift said “everybody wants you everybody wonders what it would be like to love you” and when Hole said “they really want you and I do too” and when Harry Styles said I know I’m not your only but at least I’m one, I heard a little love is better than none”

do i still love you? truthfully, i can’t imagine the day i won’t

okay but saying “i wish i had known you sooner” — like the love in my heart is growing so big and fast for you that i wish i had the opportunity to have you way earlier by my side, because i want to love you longer than i can do now. my love for you reaches my past and makes a place for you.

me. me when a poem says something ive felt before

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

— Speaking Tree, Joy Harjo

[text ID: I carry a yearning I cannot bear alone in the dark—]