I thought I understood it That I could grasp it But I didn’t Not really Only the smudgeness of it The pink-slippered-all-containered-semi-precious eagerness of it I didn’t realize it would sometimes be more than whole The wholeness was a rather luxurious idea Because its the halves that halve you in half Didn’t know Don’t know about the in between bits The gory bits of you And gory bits of me
“Maybe…you’ll fall in love with me all over again.”
“Hell,” I said, “I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?”
“Yes. I want to ruin you.”
“Good,” I said. “That’s what I want too.”—A Farewell To Arms, Ernest Hemingway (via itsherfactory)
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.
On the night you left I came over And we peeled the freckles from our shoulders Our brand new coats so flushed and pink And I knew your heart I couldn’t win Cause the season’s change was a conduit And we’d left our love in our summer skin
“You will never, never be able to sit back with full contentment and say “Now, I’ve arrived!” Your entire education has deprived you of this capacity because it was preparing you for the future, instead of showing you how to be alive now.”—Alan Watts (via levantine-chant)
“You watch a sunset too often,
it just becomes six p.m.
You make the same mistake over and over,
you’ll stop calling it a mistake.
If you just wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up,
one day, you’ll forget why.”—Phil Kaye, Repetition (via hush-little-fuckup)