“You kiss me with your mouth wide open like you’re not afraid of swallowing poison. I taste the good and bad in you and want them both. We call this bravery.”—Anita Ofokansi, Literary Sexts (via alchemy)
“More and more I think there’s an element of fiction writing that’s performative. If you want your stories to carry a particular charge of feeling, you have to experience that feeling while you’re working. I don’t know that you can fake it, or at least I don’t know that I’ve ever been able to fake it, because the choices you make when you’re writing—the rhythms you adopt, the phrases you construct, the effect one word has when it’s nestled alongside another—are so highly nuanced, and have so much to do with the ultimate emotional effect of a story, so that if you aren’t feeling along with your sentences, your instincts will gradually lead you astray.”—
This is really interesting! Do you guys feel this way when you write? I think I only do sometimes, and I would categorize those times as when I feel “inspired” or when “the muses speak to me”, etc. But it’s definitely not how I feel when I’m slogging away at something.
“I wanted to take you by the shoulders and ask why everything I’d given you wasn’t enough. Turns out it was, and you were just too stupid or too blind to see it.”—Azra T, Letters For the Boys Who Broke My Heart (via scarletdarlingxo)
“I know Di Maria’s case at first because because I talked with him for a while in Warsaw. His relations with the club went wrong when Real Madrid sent the letter claiming that they couldn’t imagine the recovering footballer to be playing in World Cup final. Di Maria was furious when he found out about it. The World Cup Final was his dream, he was even ready to play after being injected, and Real Madrid was making things hard for him. After this, when he returned to the club, full of new superstars, he heard he would be benched with “20 minute of playing per game” option. He stated “I don’t want to play here then” and the club authorities can count their money well so they knew they’ll make more money on Angel if he leaves just after the World Cup, not after the next few games in which he’d be benched,”—Jerzy Dudek on Angel Di Maria (via khaleesillas)
1. You eat regret for breakfast.
Wash it down with a cup of coffee, two sugars.
It sits heavy in your stomach like the
stones you used to skip across the lake in the summer
with the boy who made you realise how
important chemistry is.
Skin on skin
creating sparks of electricity.
Enough to light up a Christmas tree,
a home made for two,
an entire street,
2. You spent the whole of tenth grade chemistry
trying to figure out how this could be.
You held hands with your lab partner for
one minute to see if you could replicate that
moment of current in your veins.
You’d brush shoulders with strangers,
kiss boys underneath the stairs
but it was never enough to create
goosebumps on your skin.
3. The lunch lady serves you regret for lunch
and she looks at you like she knows.
The pebbles from breakfast still sit
in your stomach so you only eat half of it.
The other half finds home in the trash can.
The stones are heavy.
The stones are piling up.
The stones are sinking you to the bottom of the lake.
4. The lake where you first felt
goosebumps on your heart and he kept it warm
in the inner pocket of his jacket.
He held it as if it would crumble.
By the body of water that had a bed of drowning rocks
he kissed you as if death was lurking behind him.
You dropped all your pebbles and
filled your fists with his shirt instead.
You emptied your mind and
filled it with the colour of his eyes instead.
5. Three years ago
you both swallowed pills of empty promises
and walked away from the lake, from each other.
A road trip of silence back to a home that
reeked of memories that didn’t involve each other.
That same year, the lake dried up
and all that was left was a pile of rocks
covered in fingerprints that would
all lead back to you and him.
6. This morning he wakes up and
searches for the jacket he wore that
He finds it shoved behind football boots and gym bags.
All that is left is a gum wrapper and remnants of a pebble.
He puts the jacket back.
He walks into the kitchen.
He pours himself a bowl of stale cereal.
He eats regret for breakfast, too.”—A.Y // nothing fills you up like regret does (via 2wentysixletters)
1. Sleep with your window uncovered. That way when you wake up your walls will be lit up.
2. When you smell something that reminds you of past events, childhood, summer; take that in. Remember how happy those moments were and remind yourself they will happen again.
3. Cuddle up with your stuffed animals, pets, blankets, even ice cream if that’s what you want to cuddle with. Then watch some happy and funny movies. No sad movies my little doodle bugs, you don’t need to dwell and cry today, be relaxed and happy.
4. If you are having a bad day then turn it around. Smile and kill them with kindness.
5. Remember to breathe. I have days where I cry myself to sleep because I’m sad, I have anxiety attacks and overwhelming amounts of depression. And I can’t sit here and pretend that I know what you are going through but I am telling you to appreciate the little things. DAMMIT IF ALL YOU EVER HAVE ARE THE LITTLE THINGS THEN APPRECIATE THEM WITH ALL YOUR HEART. BECAUSE YOU ARE HERE, YOU ARE LIVING, AND TO LIVE IS ENOUGH. I am so glad you are here and I wish you fucking were too.
”—Trying to Help You Keep Going, Love Blossite (via blossite)
“Do not try to be pretty. You weren’t meant to be pretty; you were meant to burn down the earth and graffiti the sky. Don’t let anyone ever simplify you to just “pretty.””—Things I Wish My Mother Had Taught Me | d.a.s (via halluzinogen)