January 2012
86 posts
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pica
dictionaryofobscuresorrows:
n. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers—a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic chuckle, a nod of mutual respect, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence—moments that are fleeting and random and unexceptional but still contain powerful emotional nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling alone.
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You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the...
– Oscar Wilde (via neusdadt)
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First wonder goes deepest; wonder after that fits in the impression made by the...
– Piscine Molitor Patel, Life of Pi, Yann Martel (via nubivagantmusings)
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A Self-Diagnosis
Love: Even if you tasted like stale cigarettes and warm beer, I still wanted to kiss you deeply.
Hurt: An unfinished conversation with you kicking the chair as you storm out.
Loneliness: A cigarette finished in less than 7 minutes without anyone to talk to distract me.
Left arrow: A dangerous song on loop from that night you first screamed my name across the bridge.
I could unravel at your...
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Anonymous asked: I know how much you cry. I wish you'd realize you're worth every good thing in this life and then some.
You’ll meet her, she’s very pretty, even though sometimes she’s sad for many...
– Pan’s Labyrinth, El Laberinto del Fauno (via 24ribs)
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You will never, never be able to sit back with full contentment and say “Now,...
– Alan Watts (via levantine-chant)
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I want a trouble-maker for a lover,
Blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of...
– From Rumi’s Kolliyaat-e Shams-e Tabrizi
Edited by Badiozzaman Forouzanfar (Tehran, Amir Kabir, 1988).
(via fuckyeahexistentialism)
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You watch a sunset too often,
it just becomes six p.m.
You make the same...
– Phil Kaye, Repetition (via hush-little-fuckup)
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Anonymous asked: Puta naman e sabi ko naman wag ka na magpapalit ng url. Tangina alam mo ba kung gaano kita katagal ulit hinanap? Pwede ba sa susunod, kung magpapalit ka ng domain, kunin mo na lang yung domain sa puso ko.
Even if we could turn back, we’d probably never end up where we started.
– Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (via feverously)
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And I wouldn't say no to something sweet
A quick run to the store for painkillers to keep us going air rushed in through spaces respiring for you
like in between my fifth and sixth rib the frontal lobe of my brain the wind’s soft graze on the graceful “J” of your jawline
I’m breathless, I said.
It must be the cigarettes, you whispered back.