Sunday, August 31, 2014
Before you even notice, you will have settled. You will enjoy your Monday morning coffee and think it’s just what you needed to start your day. You will visit the library every Tuesday, hoping to find some new escape in a new book, just to get away from your life. You will eat lunch with your best friend every Wednesday, order the usual at your favorite restaurant, you’re satisfied. On Thursday you go for a walk around your neighborhood to clear your mind, and look forward to tomorrow. On Friday evening you think you’ve made it, so you reward yourself with delivery pizza and an alright movie you’ve seen more than six times. Saturday, there’s still a day separating you from Monday, so you’re fine. Sunday, you dread, dread, until you go to bed. Then it’s the same old routine, slowly getting through life, thinking you enjoy it, when you could easily learn to enjoy something else. How do you know what you need to get through the day is just coffee? Maybe it’s just telling yourself, hey, I can do it, there’s more to look forward to. Instead of living your life through books why don’t you go on an adventure and take a risk like your favorite fictional character? How do you know that meal is really your favorite thing at a restaurant when you’ve never let yourself taste something else? Is looking forward to the end of the week your motivation to actually get through life? If it is, why, when you’re just living the same old shit week to week, nothing will change. You won’t change. You think you’re happy, but couldn’t you be happier? i.c. // don’t settle (via delicatepoetry)
Saturday, August 30, 2014


I recall my terror of men
Three years old behind the car tire
Twenty two feet stuck to the floor

I am not an object
I speak
I I breathe
I think
Therefore I be
And there is no man that sports a pulse
That owns me

No is an independent sentiment
It needs no help or hinderance
It flows on its own course
With the force of human will

I want to shoot away
Breeze across the sky
In a blaze of light
Afraid no more

Thursday, August 28, 2014
She was a lifetime of longing
disguised as whiskey laced lips;
and, as fleeting as our last dance.
We were long enough to create a memory
and it haunts me to this day.
She left me at the bottom of a single malt,
pining for the one that got away.
White Doe (via graciouswords)

There are days
when you think,
‘One more rejection,
another useless no,
an extra doses of indifference,
and I’m ready to give up on
the whole fucking world;
but something makes us stay,
and I wish I knew what it was
so I could use it all the time.
apathy comes from love - j.b. (via youshouldacceptchaos)

(Source: be-a-riot-grrrl)

(Source: dolorimeter)

Friday, August 22, 2014
If you think you can grasp me, think again
my story flows in more than one direction
a delta springing from the riverbed
with its five fingers spread.
Adrienne Rich, “Delta” (via hush-syrup)
It was not the feeling of completeness I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty. Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated (via feellng)

(Source: jockalot)

Just be fucking honest about how you feel about people while you’re alive. John Mayer (via story-dj)

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I want this on my blog because I think it is important. If you have any problems with this, message me.

*profoundfuckery approves this message*

(Source: dozing)