March 2012
2 posts
sometimes you just have to talk yourself into believing something. It works out in the end, but sucks getting there.
February 2012
110 posts
trying.
“my heart can’t concentrate on the things it needs to… Which is like some neo-hippie dipshit thing to say, but it’s true.”
The truth must dazzle gradually
Time to carry on?
I’m not sure what this all about, I’m not sure if I’m making good decisions for myself. But it’s fair. Or at least it’s supposed to be. At least that’s the agreement. That this is all fair.
But if it’s so fair, then why does it hurt so bad? And why is there no relief. And why do I ache. Why can’t I sleep. Why am I starting to think this is wrong....
Just watched Capra’s You Can’t take It With two times in a row. Even blue skies are sad today.
a murmuring heart, aches when the moon shines.
a curveball, and it feels like a dagger.
“Look - you should be happy for me. You don’t know what he says to me in...”
– Penny Lane
My friend recorded this and I still love it after...
It’s a s’mores for lunch sort a day.
“When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.”
– William Shakespeare (via myquotelibrary)
The morning bird’s song never sounded more tired.
x:/
Capital Hill is my playground. byeee.
Things Keats has taught me | Part 1
If I had a choice to be either egotistically sublime like Wordsworth or have negative capability like Keats and Shakespeare, I think I’d choose the latter, and just find someone else to absorb this life in a genuine misery—I think in that I’d find euphoria, truth and beauty in their most organic and beautiful state, and that is what I thirst for.
But in reality, I don’t...
A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; and in my breast the imperfect joy expires;
I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear and weep the more because I weep in vain.
—Gray
Obstinate questionings
of sense and outward things,
Fallings from us, vanishings, etc.
Silence makes the heart grow (fonder).
Frodo: I can’t do this, Sam. Sam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end,...
Fuck you, asterisks. I still hate you.