"I think she was afraid to love sometimes. I think it scarred her. She was the type to like things that are concrete, like the oceans. Something you could point to and know what it was. I think that's why she always struggled with God. And I think that's why she also struggled with love. She couldn't touch it. She couldn't hold on to it and make sure it never changed."

Bob Marley on how to love a woman

“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfect - you aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don’t hurt her, don’t change her, don’t analyze and don’t expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she’s not there.” 

 

- Bob Marley

❝When I say I love you, I mean it with every bit of my body, with every hair on my skin, with every cell making me up, with every breath I take. When I say I love you, I mean I love you with every bad mood you’re in, every tear you shed, everything you don’t do but should, every white lie you tell people, with every sad story from your past, with every time you come late on a date, with every flaw you might have. When I say I love you, I mean I love you with every smile you put on my face, with every laugh you tickle out of me, with every kiss you give me, with every hug you wrap me into you, with every touch of you against my skin, with every falling asleep and waking up next to you. When I say I love you, I mean it with every fibre my body is made up of, with every molecule I consist of. When I say I love you, I mean it.❞

I want to know how many scars you have and memorize the shape of your tongue.
I want to climb the curve of your lower back and count your vertebrae, your ribs, your fingers, your goose bumps.
I want to chart the topography of your anatomy and be fluent in your body language. 

I want you, entire.

I wanted to be a writer, that's all. I wanted to write about it all. Everything that happens in a moment. The way the flowers looked when you carried them in your arms. This towal, how it smells, how it feels, this thread. All our feelings, yours and mine. The history of it, who we once were. Everything in the world. Everything all miexed up, like it's all mixed up now. And I failed. I failed. No matter what you start with it ends up being so much less.

If I pretend to be the air will you breathe me in deeply?and will you love me as a necesity- not an option? Would you spare me and breathe me out softly, with smiles and love.Please, breathe me softly. --Anonymous

& tu?

"Como cualquier menor adicto a las drogas con cierto grado de reflexión, mi afición por huir de la realidad se expresa enuna marcada tendencia a la lectura compulsiva. Devoro con la misma deseperación un libro de ficción librepensadora sobre psicoanalistas paquistaníes que una tesis que investigue el nexto que une Moby Dick con el nacionalismo. La luz del día sólo apartada con gesto indolente."

- Axolote Atropellado,

Helene Hegemann

"No" said the kid to the dentist,

and the fight for power began

his eyes were dark but they wouldn't match the shade of the night.

Neither was right, neither was wrong

but how could they tell when they were incapable of listening to anything but the sound of their own voice?

and the keeper was there to keep them from fighting, which she didn't do

and then she was lost, so lost, so lost,

too lost to be found.

The otherone ran away  
"anywhere but here" - she whispered, 
but how could they listen to her when all there was the wishful thinking of a kid in a dentist's chair.

I really fucked it up this time.

I'm actually kind of afraid of expressing my feelings on the world wide web, I'm scarred someone I know in real life might read it, and tell other people about it. And as much as I hate to admit it, I'm scarred of what people would say behind my back, to show people I care about such things. And mainly I'm just sick of crying every single day, I have been doing this for almost 2 weeks. I've been feeling miserable over the stupiest things, that really don't feel stupid at all, and it actually makes sense to me to feel that aweful, but it's just embarrassing to feel sad. I am not comfortable telling anyone here everything why I feel the way I do, and I won't make any more remarks on the subject. I just feel like I really fucked things up this time.

I really do wish we could have been friends, but you continue to act like a dick, I mean out of nowhere, for no aparent reason. 'Cause last time I checked you were the one to call it off, this thing that hadn't even started yet. Well, fuck it. I deleted you from e v e r y w h e r e I had any way or form to contact you. 

no more IM, I even hid you from facebook. I'm officially clean from you.

“If you close your eyes, you see darkness. But if you keep them closed for long enough, and concentrate hard, you’ll see light.”

I know I haven't been posting in quite a long time, but I've been obsesssing over tumblr

but, it's saturday night, and I haven't been out in days now, I've been running a high fever and throwing up for a few days now, since thursday morning, to be exact. And since I have such free time and don't want to go to bed yet, I'm making a post about the best show in the entire world SKINS but of course it is about the original version, UK if you will. And it is a post about my favorite couple in the entire world:

Freddie & Effy:

Effy: The moment I saw you, I knew it’d be the closest I’d get to being… close. I didn’t know what to do with that feeling… happiness. 

Freddie: Listen, Effy, you are the closest I’m ever gonna— 

Effy: But they know now! And they’re hungry. Really fucking hungry. Because for as long as I’ve known, they’ve been chasing me and now they’re ready, now they’re strong enough to break through. And I can’t fight them. I used to be able to when I was strong but… you’ve made me weak. And now I can’t, I can’t! 

 

 

 

Freddie: We'd be good together don't you think?
Effy:  No

Freddie: Why not?
Effy: Because I'll break your heart.
Freddie: Maybe I'll break yours.
Effy: Nobody breaks my heart

 

Effy: I know you’re the only person I can trust.

Freddie: Effy, nothing bad is gonna happen. I’m gonna take care of you now. Alright? I promise.

Effy: Hit me

Freddie: What?

Effy: Just once. I wanna feel something.

& my favorite scene from the whole skins series:

I really do wish I could have someone like Freddie, I mean he's head over heels for a girl whose really fucked up,

 “Stay here. I’ll fight them! Is that going to stop you? I’ll fucking fight them! Fuck off! Fuck off, you cunts! I’ll kill you all! ”

—

Freddie

 

you can’t lose what you don’t own

"You think because he doesn’t love you that you are worthless. You think that because he doesn’t want you anymore that he is right — that his judgment and opinion of you are correct. If he throws you out, then you are garbage. You think he belongs to you because you want to belong to him. Don’t. It’s a bad word, ‘belong.’ Especially when you put it with somebody you love. Love shouldn’t be like that. Did you ever see the way the clouds love a mountain? They circle all around it; sometimes you can’t even see the mountain for the clouds. But you know what? You go up top and what do you see? His head. The clouds never cover the head. His head pokes through, beacuse the clouds let him; they don’t wrap him up. They let him keep his head up high, free, with nothing to hide him or bind him. You can’t own a human being. You can’t lose what you don’t own. Suppose you did own him. Could you really love somebody who was absolutely nobody without you? You really want somebody like that? Somebody who falls apart when you walk out the door? You don’t, do you? And neither does he. You’re turning over your whole life to him. Your whole life, girl. And if it means so little to you that you can just give it away, hand it to him, then why should it mean any more to him? He can’t value you more than you value yourself."

 

— Toni Morrison