When you have nothing left to say to me, say it anyway.– I Wrote This For You, The Voice in the Back of my Heart
I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now.– B. Dylan
gammasandgerunds: “For months, I couldn’t write. It was the loveliest vertigo, sort of like drinking tequila but without the hysterical blindness. My blackbirds were wingless, legless. They sputtered on the ground like firecrackers while you played flare gun, fire engine. I smelled like grass and rabbits, waited in the field for days for lightning, wanted that spark, the mailbox sticky with...
I envy you. Every moment. You can leave me. I cannot leave myself.– Anna Świrszczyńska
Think our second summer together will be better...
likeawritingdesk: i want to plant myself like a seed in the pit of your stomach in the bottom of your heart i want to be a little blossom that sprouts in the spring and thrives in the summer and survives the winter year after year
Where was Gotye one year ago. Describes everything so perfectly, almost too much so. Maybe if I had heard the song, one year ago, I would be over everything by now.
likethesun: After basically a year with living someone, no matter how much you love the person, it’s good to finally get some alone time. It’s healthy, actually. I was starting to forget how it felt to keep my own company. It’s weird to me that some people spend their whole lives with the dependence of constantly having someone around, lacking the ability to be by themselves.
thevirtualhermit: I’d like to be a bookmark Your favorite bookmark One you carry everywhere Pressed between the pages Of your favorite novels Absorbing the words You love the most Transferred from dusty World to world Thoughtlessly carressed By your fingers while Imagination claims your mind.
wordsandfeathers: On days like today, all I want is to go backwards. On days like today, I go through Kübler-Ross’ five stages of grief in a period of 13 hours. Denial. I’m fine. Nevermind. Sorry I bothered you with my daily insecurity. Anger. Why me? It’s not fair, I should be happy, but I’m not. I blame my current feelings on everything I’ve felt or didn’t in the past. Bargaining. Maybe...
Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That’s...– Haruki Murakami
It’s on days like today that I wish I had a pet to come home to.
It’s the worst feeling in the world to love and hate someone all at the same...– runawaytrain
juneandafter: November 16, 2010 I’ve lived in this city for my whole existence; 20 years and 268 days. I can be any one place in this city and my eyes and brain will both find a landmark that is attached to a memory of mine. Just the other day, I was a passenger in a car on the road I drove on constantly to and from your house. That memory is of you. The hockey arena will always remind me of...
Just so you know, there are certain people who were put here to break you. So...– I Wrote This For You, The Importance of Breaking Things and People
One day, you realise that there are some people you’ll never see again. At...– I Wrote This For You, The Age At Which It Happens
wordsandfeathers: Sometimes, I don’t want to write. Feeling is enough. Writing it down makes it permanent, a concrete memory. Maybe this is because I’m selfish, too selfish to share this, this right now, with the world yet. Let me just lie in the bath all day and soak up this feeling.
Here I am: a bundle of past recollections and future dreams knotted up in a...– Sylvia Plath
tobenaked: We kiss in our sleep a lot Somehow our lips find each other, Collide into each other, In the dark
mikefrawley: Could it be our time for love summer breezes, you’re close by Though I can’t seem to find the words I’ll write until my pen runs dry I love you more than letters can say searching for that perfect line My carpet covered in crumpled notes trying to say, thank God you’re mine I’d love to write upon your heart please stay with me, I’ll pass the test It’s hard to express the way I...
theplotneedsmorebourbon: I have pockets full of possibilities. These pants were expensive. I also have, pockets full of responsibilities. But I never wear those pants, they were given to me. Nobody likes second-hand shit.
Your hearts’ a mess You won’t admit to it It makes no sense But...– Gotye, Hearts a Mess
The ending, a bittersweet one if ever there was, opens up a lot of questions....
wordsandfeathers: I forgive you for the things you said. I forget you for the things you didn’t say.
I’ve never been more in love with writing than I am today.
indescribably: Break me down into bits and bones and batter my soul til I’m withered and old and then flip me over and warm the cold, restore my hope. ‘Cause I’m lonely and lost until you draw near and I’m bitter and bashful without you here and I want to be bold, not sold out on the latest trends and designer sins. I’ve been chasing after hands that can’t take what I’m leaving, and holding out...
yellowisgold: have i ever told you that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me
How often do we tell our own life story? How often do we adjust, embellish, make...– Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending
wordsandfeathers: I once thought that being unhappy made me love writing more, that the ability to type down a few hundred characters was more comforting that a human could ever be. Being in love with you, however, makes me love writing even more. Except the words never seem to be quite representational of the feelings themselves. Can I do this for the rest of my life? Just write and feel and...
Coming off a high of evenings spent with you. The weekend couldn’t have been started any better.
entropicarus: i wish being in love were as easy as falling in love.
Well, I fell in love with the world in you.– Noah & the Whale, Hold My Hand As I’m Lowered
onlinejournals: We spent three nights together going nowhere below the mouth. I started smoking to spite your memory. You stayed a half thought in my mind. We would hug across the car. I started biting my nails to spite your memory. I chewed your name in long, slow sessions nightly sleeping with you crushed up in my gum line jaws and teeth you can’t sleep alone I gnawed at night. I can’t...
danielaarchbold: overwhelmed with no sense and urge to be productive but overspent on days and words that keep this from happening
vulgivagus: I hide things around things I know are around. Woven by plan, sewn by accident— I forget why I hid a breath before another bounds.