I want to see you.
Know your voice.
Recognize you when you
first come ‘round the corner.
Sense your scent when I come 
into a room you’ve just left.
Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.
Become familiar with the way 
you purse your lips
then let them part, 
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.
I want to know the joy 
of how you whisper 
“more”.

Immature people falling in love destroy each other’s freedom, create a bondage, make a prison. Mature persons in love help each other to be free; they help each other to destroy all sorts of bondages. And when love flows with freedom there is beauty. When love flows with dependence there is ugliness.

A mature person does not fall in love, he or she rises in love. Only immature people fall; they stumble and fall down in love. Somehow they were managing and standing. Now they cannot manage and they cannot stand. They were always ready to fall on the ground and to creep. They don’t have the backbone, the spine; they don’t have the integrity to stand alone.

A mature person has the integrity to stand alone. And when a mature person gives love, he or she gives without any strings attached to it. When two mature persons are in love, one of the great paradoxes of life happens, one of the most beautiful phenomena: they are together and yet tremendously alone. They are together so much that they are almost one. Two mature persons in love help each other to become more free. There is no politics involved, no diplomacy, no effort to dominate. Only freedom and love.

-Osho

 "I just lump everything in a great heap which I have labeled 'the past,' and having thus emptied this deep reservoir that was once myself, I am ready to continue."

"As long as women’s natural body hair is called disgusting and inappropriate while men’s isn’t, I am a feminist.
As long as I can’t watch an episode of a popular sitcom without having to sit through multiple sexist comments or “jokes”, I am a feminist.
As long as women have to face the rational fear of being sexually assaulted every time they walk home past dark while men don’t, I am a feminist.
As long as misogyny exists in any country in this world, I am a feminist.
As long as women are being raped, then stoned to death or forced to marry their rapist, I am a feminist.
As long as companies promote men to manager when there are women who are equally as or better qualified, because they find that men look more authoritative, I am a feminist.
As long as women (her choice of clothes, her friendly nature, her weakness, her choice to drink alcohol) get blamed when men rape them, I am a feminist.
As long women’s opinions on online social networks are dismissed with phrases like “tits or gtfo”, “get back to the kitchen”, “are you pms’ing?”, I am a feminist.
As long as dressing like a women is degrading for men and as long as men are insulted with phrases like “you throw like a woman”, clearly implying that being like a woman is shameful, I am a feminist.
As long as both men are women are expected to work, but taking care of children and the household are still largely considered a woman’s job, I am a feminist.
As long as boys and girls are treated differently, expected to act differently, and surrounded by different toys and colours from the day they are born, I am a feminist.
As long as topless women aren’t allowed in public unless they’re on the cover of a men’s magazine, I am a feminist.
As long as women who have sex frequently are generally told they are “sluts”, “lacking self-respect” and “lacking morals” by both men and women, while men who frequently have sex are “just being men” and it’s “natural for them”, I am a feminist.
As long as there are places where women have to pay more for health insurance than men, I am a feminist.
As long as men experience situations with equal gender representation as female-dominated, and don’t consider a group discussion equal unless there are significantly more men then women participants (as has been proven), I am a feminist.
As long as there are men who think it’s their wife or girlfriend’s duty to have sex with him whenever he wants, I am a feminist.
As long as the word feminism (“the movement aimed at equal rights for women”) has a negative connotation, I am a feminist.
As long as misogynist people exist, I am a feminist."

freefreefreefreefreefreefreefreefreefreefreefree

i don't know you anymore

1. Spit it into her voicemail, a little slurred and sounding like the shot whiskey you downed for courage. Feel as ashamed as you do walking into work in last night’s clothes. Wake up cringing for days, waiting for her to mention it. 

2. Sigh it into her mouth, wedged in between teeth and tongues. Don’t even let your lips move when you say it, ever so lightly, into the air. Maybe it was just an exhalation of ecstasy.

3. Buy her flowers. Buy her chocolate. Buy her a teddy bear, because that’s what every romantic comedy has taught you. Take her out to a nice restaurant where neither of you feel comfortable and spend the whole night clearing your throat and tugging at your tie. Feel like your actions are more suited to a proposal than the simple confession of something you’ve always known.

4. Whisper it into her hair in the middle of the night, after you’ve counted the space between her breaths and are certain she’s asleep. Shut your eyes quickly when she shifts toward you in askance. Maybe you were just sleep whispering.

5. Blurt it out in the middle of an impromptu dance party in the kitchen, as clumsy as your two left feet. When time seems to freeze, hastily tack on “in that shirt” or “when you make your award-winning meatballs” or, if you are feeling particularly brave, “when we do this.” Resume dancing and pretend you don’t feel her eyes on you the rest of the night.

6. Write her a letter in which the amount of circumnavigating and angst could rival Mr. Darcy’s. Debate where to leave it all day – on her pillow? In her coat pocket? Throw it away in frustration, conveniently leaving it face up in the trashcan, her name scrawled on the front in your sloppy handwriting. Let her wonder if you meant it.

7. Wait until something terrible has happened and you can’t not tell her anymore. Wait until she almost gets hit by a car crossing Wabash against the light and after you are done cursing at the shit-for-brains cab drivers in this city, realize you are actually just terrified of living without her. Tell her with your hands shaking.

8. Say it deliberately, your tongue a springboard for every syllable. Over coffee, brushing your teeth side-by-side, as you turn off the light to go to sleep – it doesn’t matter where. Do not adorn it with extra words like “I think” or “I might.” Do not sigh heavily as if admitting it were a burden instead of the most joyous thing you’ve ever done. Look her in the eyes and pray, heart thumping wildly, that she will turn to you and say, “I love you too."

"i never noticed the stars before. i always thought of them as great big diamonds that belonged to someone. now they frighten me.
they make me feel that it was all a dream, all my youth."

"it was a dream," said john quietly. "everybody's youth is a dream, a form of chemical madness."

"how pleasant then to be insane!"

and my heart hurts

remember that day that i kissed you at the bar and you were so surprised and then we spent the night together but we just slept next to each other and that was all we needed? the first time we made love…do you remember that? how you fit so perfectly inside me and how we came together. the way you pressed your hand against my chest as you pulled out and the way you kissed my lips and my forehead to distract me from the emptiness. the first time you told me you loved me i was boarding a flight and i cried because i thought you were angry and i knew i had loved you from the first moment i touched you. and every time after that when you breathed how much you loved me into my ear and my lips and my hair. how i wanted to feel your heart beat. move with its rhythm. the times when you were vulnerable and you told me the things you were afraid of and i told you not to worry because you were my everything. and then there were all those times in the shower together with the water on us and the weight of your body behind me and the touch of your calloused hands on my shoulder blades and your kisses on the top of my head. and all those nights when i was drunk with happiness and champagne and high on speed and nothing else mattered except that you were there and we only had eyes for each other. each other. and our secrets. so many secrets. and giggles. no one laughed as much as we did. and the letter i wrote you that made us both cry. what about our trip to the emerald city? where you surprised me with that ring and we drank bubbly in the tub and you washed my hair and we ate raspberries and you took photos of me naked and we rolled around on that massive bed and made love and slept and kissed and everything was pure magic. but then we came home and my world came crashing down. but you were there and you caught me and i couldn't tell you what had happened but you knew and we both just wept because everything was turned upside down. you stayed and you were my support, my family, and when i left for months at a time and we were apart you listened to me. you rushed over when the people in my life let me down and you never had a problem fighting for me and sticking up for me and i needed that because i was hurting and i didn't know how to handle it. and that time downtown when i dragged you away and you yelled at me and then i burst into tears and you did too. you took me in your arms and you said you were sorry and i knew it was for more than just the yelling but for all the pain i was in and i knew you felt helpless but you stayed and i will always love you for that. and you told me how your friend told you to knock me up because you shouldn't let this one get away because you loved me so much and you wouldn't shut up about it. oh yes the many times we talked about having all those little babies. your french babies. our life together and i would smile at the thought of you being a dad because you would be great at it. and my golden birthday. the way that i almost burst into tears when i walked through that door because it was so much more than i ever expected and even though i was so exhausted that i made you go home at midnight you were okay with that and we left and it was the most perfect birthday I've ever had. and when we went down to the city of angels and we took it by storm and we had our ups and downs but i came downstairs and dragged you off the couch and told you to hold me because those things were silly and we were made of more than that. and then when we stayed in the loft and admits all that white i broke down and you did too but it was okay because we had each other and even if things were hard i knew i had you and everyday you'd say hi baby to me and make my heart melt. 

blowing you away

i am the longing. i am the unscratched surface of my potential. i am the first step waiting to be taken. i am the smirk that won't wipe off my face. i am the unquenched thirst. i am the desire. i am the patience that is wearing thin. i am the end of the rope. i am the love unspoken for. i am the fear, but i am the courage. i am the uncharted waters. i am the waiting, the waiting, the waiting. i am the glass half full. i am the unspoken understanding. i am the butterfly effect. i am the arms raised in victory, i am the hands holding my head in defeat. i am the moment of clarity. i am the double take. i am the words i scribble. i am the lips unkissed, my hands not held. i am the lyrics. i am the melody. i am the honesty, i am the loyalty. i am the wonder, the beautiful wonder. i am the late night talk. i am the sour and i am the sweet. i am the last blink before sleep. i am the first breath of the morning. i am the goosebumps, i am the sweat. i am the most romantic thing i've yet to do. i am the thoughts uncontrollable. i am the raised eyebrow. i am the teardrop tracing the contours of my face. i am the laughter, the uncensored laughter. i am the mistakes i've made, and the lessons i've learned. i am the success. i am the failure. i am the ambition, i am the apathy. i am the opposites inside me. i am the trembling anticipation. i am the love i take. i am the compassion. i am the underestimation i receive. i am the focus i always lose. i am the memories. i am the stolen breath and the skipped heartbeat. i am the worry. i am the calm. i am the smile. i am the freedom, i am the dependence. i am the broken heart. i am the misplaced trust. i am the confidence, but i am the insecurity. i am the faith. i am the logical next step. i am the places i've seen. i am the perfect guy for someone out there. i am the first hello with whoever she will be. i am the first kiss. i am the first fight. i am the shared dreams. i am the beating of my heart. i am the infinite space between today and tomorrow. i am the last straw. i am the confusion. i am the incompatibility. i am the comfortable silence. i am the wink. i am the thought in the back of my mind. i am the first star i wish on. i am the aching. i am the poetry i write. i am the uncertainty of who it is for. i am the relief, the sweet relief. i am the shadows across my face. i am the peace. i am the lack. i am the happiness i am surrounded by. i am the man i'm becoming. i am the boy i used to be

i am the whole, but i am the pieces
i am the pieces

baby badass

virgile.reboul

he smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. it was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. it faced--or seemed to face--the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. it understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself.

once upon a time, there was a candy and dan...things were very hot that year...all the wax was melting on the trees...he would climb balconies, climb everywhere. do anything for her...oh danny boy. thousands of birds. the tiniest birds adorned her hair...everything was golden...one night the bed caught fire...he was handsome, and a very good criminal...we lived on sunlight and chocolate bars...it was the afternoon of extravagant delight...danny, the daredevil... candy went missing... the day's last rays of sunshine cruise like sharks...i wanna try it your way this time! you came into my life really fast, and i liked it. we squelched in the mud of our joy. i was wet thighed with the surrender...then there was a gap in things...and the whole earth tilted...this is the business. this is what we're after. with you inside me...comes the hatch of death... 

SOPHIEMONK

lost in paris...

“there must be quite a few things a hot bath won’t cure, but i don’t know many of them. whenever i am so sad i’m going to die, or so nervous i can’t sleep, or in love with somebody i won’t be seeing for a week, i slump down just so far and then i say: i’ll go take a hot bath. i mediate in the bath. the water needs to be very hot, so hot you can barely stand putting your foot in it. then you lower yourself, inch by inch, til the water’s up to your neck. i remember the ceiling over every bathtub i’ve ever stretched out in. i remember the texture of the ceilings and the cracks and the colors and the damp spots and the light fixtures. i remember the tubs, too: the antique griffin-legged tubs overlooking water taps and the different sorts of soap holders. i never feel so much myself as when i’m in a hot bath. i lay in the tub on the seventeenth floor of this hotel for women-only, high up over the jazz and push of new york, for near onto an hour, and i felt myself growing pure again. i don’t believe in baptism or the waters of jordan or anything like that, but i guess i feel about a hot bath the way those religious people must feel about holy water. i said to myself...they are all dissolving away and none of them matter anymore. i don’t know them, i have never known them and i am very pure. all that liquor and those sticky kisses i saw and the dirt that settled on my skin on the way back is turning into something pure. the longer i lay there in the clear hot water the purer i felt, and when i stepped out at last and wrapped myself in one of the big, soft white hotel bath towels i felt pure and sweet as a new baby.”

- sylvia plath, the bell jar

arwen

LIVE BY THE SUN, LOVE BY THE MOON

more more more

you're a dream to me

bellatrix

trick or treat